


because he's pretty

by yanjunslut



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Harsh Language, Jisung has ADHD, M/M, Slightly Spicy, dance major!minho, haechan and mark briefly appear, minsung - Freeform, science major!jisung
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-06
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2020-04-11 19:15:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 32,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19116007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yanjunslut/pseuds/yanjunslut
Summary: lee minho has no shame in getting what he wants, and if he has to use the adorable boy called han jisung to get it then so be itorthat college au where broke dance major minho wants in on the free couples spa trip and science major jisung happens to be there when he needs a fake boyfriend





	1. i just need your number

**Author's Note:**

> hiii another skz fic from me because i cant get minsung out of my brain ;;;

Minho startles with a jump at the first beep from his morning alarm, blinking sleepily while reaching to switch it off. He isn’t a light sleeper by any means, but the second his alarm rings he wakes in a heartbeat. He yawns and stretches, then slides out of bed and pads across the floor and into the bathroom.

He frowns at his reflection in the bathroom mirror: heavy dark circles and ruffled blonde hair sticking up in different directions. He squints, checking to see if his natural black roots are showing at all yet, but finds himself satisfied with the current state. And thank god for that, he doesn’t quite have enough money for another dye job just yet.

Minho finishes showering in under ten minutes, dries his hair in five, dresses in three. He wanders into the bedroom beside his own, entering without knocking as always.

Inside, the figure huddled under a stack of blankets on the bed doesn’t move at all. Minho chuckles and aims a sharp kick at it.

“Ow!”

“Rise and shine, sleeping beauty.”

A face emerges from the blankets, mussed brown hair in his eyes and swollen lips pouting in annoyance. “Why do you always do that? I told you your stupid hair dryer already wakes me up!”

“Because it’s fun.” Minho waits for his roommate to get up, arranging himself comfortably on the bed while he finishes buttoning up his shirt. “Stop sulking, Hyunjin, you’re too old for that.”

Hyunjin flips onto his back, still making no move to get up. He draws the sheets up until only his glaring eyes are visible, turning to slits when he realises Minho is filming his reaction.

“Fuck off,” he says half-heartedly, knowing he won’t do anything about Minho and Minho knows he won’t.

 

The two have been roommates for just three months shy of one year now. Minho had previously been fortunate enough to room on his own during his first year, and being an only child to boot he was not particularly excited at the prospect of having to share a dorm for the first time in his life.

Hyunjin had transferred from another university in a different state, and being taken in randomly mid-term meant the university had struggled to find somewhere to put him before they realised Minho still wasn’t sharing.

His reception into their dorm from Minho was cold at first. Despite being told by the too-cheerful guide that the two would get along wonderfully- she informed Hyunjin that Minho was also a dance major- the first few weeks of their life together were empty and awkward; Minho made sure to be absent as often as possible, to only leave his room if he absolutely had to, and never cleaned or touched anything that belonged to Hyunjin.

Almost a month of this brought Hyunjin to his wit’s end. He was kind, polite- a little loud at times but he was sure he wasn’t too overbearing- and frankly had no idea why his roommate was so determined to avoid him, so one day he sat on their couch waiting for Minho to arrive home from class.

“What are you doing?” Minho had asked, after five long seconds of silence, glancing back at the still open door behind him like a scared cat as if he were intending to make a run for it.

Convinced he really might, Hyunjin had quickly stood up and made his way towards the older boy, trying to ignore the way Minho backed away from him. “I was thinking we could go out for dinner tonight.”

The older boy had blinked in confusion. “What?”

Palms sweating, Hyunjin plowed on. “There’s nothing in the house.”

There had been, Hyunjin had just eaten it all in one go, determined not to give the other an out. In all honesty, he felt rather sick. Minho wasn’t going to know that, though.

After a slight staring contest, Minho internally decided that Hyunjin wasn’t going to give in, even though Hyunjin felt his will slipping away from him with every passing second.

Two hours later, the two had been draped over each other in a chicken and beer joint, Hyunjin drunk out of his mind and Minho tipsy but within control, explaining through mouthfuls of boneless spicy wings that while he was very good at putting on a more extroverted façade in public, he finds it very difficult to get close to people he has to see consistently.

Hyunjin had waved his apology aside- as well as the radish dish beside him- and said he completely understood, but he hoped they could be friends now.

What had really solidified their friendship was their walk back to the dorms. Minho wobbled as he carried the taller boy on his back, not entirely convinced Hyunjin could walk on his own. Just one more turn before they reached the lobby, Hyunjin had leapt off his back and launched himself into the nearby bushes.

After emptying his stomach contents into the shrubbery, Hyunjin had mournfully turned to look up at the older boy.

“I ate the food you had earlier because I didn’t want you to have any reason to stay home.”

Cackling at the confession, Minho had stayed beside the younger, one hand combing through Hyunjin’s dark hair, the other rubbing his back soothingly. “I’m glad of it.”

 

Hyunjin eyes Minho now, assessing the older boy’s outfit. “How do you manage to put together an outfit so quickly and make it work?”

“Anything works when you’re this good looking.”

Hyunjin snorts.

Ducking away from Minho’s outstretched hand, he rolls onto the floor, tangled sheets coming with him. He begins to crawl slowly across the floor like a giant slug, making his way to the bathroom.

Minho steps over him and strides past, shutting the door as Hyunjin is about to slide in, nearly hitting his fingers.

“How dare you-”

With a laugh Minho quickly moves into the kitchen and away from Hyunjin’s wrath. After grabbing a bar from the cupboard and his water bottle from the fridge, he hastily shoves his textbooks into his satchel bag. He bends to tug his shoes on then grunts in pain, grabbing his right shoulder and squeezing it.

Apparently no amount of rest was going to make him feel better, no matter how much his teacher or mother insisted upon it.

Hyunjin appears beside him, a washing basket in his arms.

“I’m gonna do a laundry run before class today, do you…” The younger boy trails off as he notes Minho’s pain. He tilts his head in concern. “When are you going to do something about that?”

“Never,” Minho grins, and Hyunjin flinches for him as he slides his bag strap onto his shoulder. “It is my fate to just suffer and die.”

“Get out,” Hyunjin laughs. He places the basket on the floor then pulls his shirt over his head, dropping it in with the other laundry.

Minho gags.

“I’ll meet you in the practice rooms at three,” Hyunjin calls as he walks back to the bathroom. The door slams and a muffled cry sounds from behind: “don’t make me wait again!”

 

“I just don’t see why the professors think it’s okay to give us this many assignments on top of placement? It isn’t fair and I’m sure they don’t even read our work properly when they grade it.”

Woojin, a friend of Minho’s since high school, walks beside Minho, mid-rant about the latest assessments to be dumped on him. To Woojin’s left is his boyfriend Chan, a transfer student from Australia who finds that swinging their clasped hands and tracing his thumb lightly over Woojin’s hand helps to calm the older boy down.

“It’s all a sham,” Chan remarks in agreement.

Minho says nothing as Woojin continues to pick apart the flaws of the education system, choosing to focus on a brown-haired boy ahead of them in the crowd, and more specifically, how he can avoid him. He considered himself an expert at crowd dodging, hating being sucked in to talk to those people on the streets who try to make you sign up for anything and everything.

The boy and a companion pounce on every passerby they can, and before Minho has an exit strategy in place the boy locks eyes with him, making his way over with papers extended before him.

Minho tries to dodge and brushes past rudely, flicking the papers away. The papers scatter to the ground and Woojin and Chan immediately get down to help pick them up. Minho scrunches his nose, watching them all and doing nothing himself.

“Thank you guys,” the brunet says, reaching out to stop another sheet flying away. “It’s this useless survey for a project I have to organise for our research lab, even though I asked multiple times why I couldn’t just organise this online.”

Vaguely, Minho hears Woojin starting up his complaints again and Chan’s polite “no problem” as he glances down at the typed words on one sheet by his foot: ‘free holiday- massages and spa deal included’.

Eyes widening comically, Minho drops to his knees beside the brunet, gathering up the papers and profusely apologizing to the boy as he does so.

Chan and Woojin exchange confused glances but say nothing as they get to their feet.

“I’ll do your survey,” Minho smiles brightly, holding his hand out to the boy. “To make up for bowling you over like that. I’m too clumsy sometimes. My name is Minho.”

The boy takes his hand and shakes it, not seeming totally won over but clearly thankful that one person is willing to do it.

Behind them, Woojin rolls his eyes, used to Minho’s tactics.

“Seungmin,” the brunet replies, and Minho’s sure he knows he’s a fake bitch. Seungmin smiles slyly. “And that’s great! I just need your partner’s signature and we can do the rest later.”

A girl comes up beside them, tugging her boyfriend along with her. She thrusts their own surveys into Seungmin’s hands.

“I’ll get back to you by the end of the day!” Seungmin calls, and she gives a thumbs up before heading off. He turns back to Minho, brows raised as if to defy him.

Minho stares back, smile tight. He glances around the crowd, assessing the people around him.

“Minho what-” Chan starts, only to be cut off by Minho.

“There he is! Give me a moment.”

Chan and Seungmin stare after Minho as he runs off, Woojin unsure of what’s happening but confident that it’s something stupid.

 

“Hi!”

Minho envelops the boy before him in a hug, smiling charmingly and glancing over his shoulder to see if the others are watching. He notes Woojin’s flat expression and tries not to laugh.

“Do I … do I know you?”

The boy stares up at him, confusion plastered across his face as he takes in Minho standing before him. He’s shorter than Minho, not by a lot, and adorable in the way Minho loves: rounded cheeks and big brown eyes, a head of fuzzy brown hair that seems to have either been dyed to death or perhaps crimped (rather badly) and then been brushed out. His outfit consists of almost entirely black- jeans and a hoodie- with no shirt underneath if the hint of collarbone showing was anything to go by, and the thin silver chain necklaces resting over his very tanned skin almost make Minho forget the reason he came over in the first place.

“Not yet.” Minho winks.

The boy seems undeterred. “I’m late for class.”

Looking back, Minho sees the other three beginning to walk over. “Look,” he hisses, placing his phone in the boy’s hand, “all I need is your name and number and then you can go.”

The boy’s mouth drops in shock, making him impossibly cuter, and Minho would fawn over it if he wasn’t under a time limit. The boy pinches himself on the arm.

Minho squints. “What are you-”

“Jisung,” he says breathily, fumbling with the phone as he enters his details. “I’m Han Jisung.”

“Brilliant,” Minho leans forward, planting a kiss on Jisung’s cheek, blinking in surprise at how soft it is. “You’ve just saved my life.”

“This is your boyfriend?” Seungmin asks as he draws closer, Chan and Woojin curiously walking alongside him.

“Your what?” Jisung squeaks.

“I’ll explain later,” Minho murmurs by his ear, then pulls away with a laugh directed at the others. “Sure is! But he’s late for class so he can sign later!”

He reaches out and pats Jisung’s butt, shoving him in the direction of the classrooms. “Later, babe!”

Cheeks flushed and clearly more confused than ever, Jisung nods and musters the best excuse for a smile he can before heading up the stairs.

“So I can just give you our names and numbers for now, and we can come see you in the next couple of days to finish the rest. Would that be okay?”

Seungmin shrugs. “Should be fine.”

He passes Minho a sheet, noting Minho double checking Jisung’s details on his phone but choosing to say nothing.

Minho hands back the sheet and waves. “See you soon!”

Seungmin waves back before walking over to his friend to continue asking for participants, and Minho turns gleefully to his friends, thankful that he once again managed to pull off what Woojin liked to call his ‘evil schemes’.

Woojin watches him, arms folded over his chest. “Minho. What the fuck.”

Chan looks back and forth between Minho’s smug expression and Woojin’s disgusted one in confusion. “What’s going on?”

“You don’t have a boyfriend!”

“He doesn’t?”

Woojin throws up his hands, exasperated. “I think we would know if he did. Who was that, Minho?”

“Wh-“

Woojin shoots a glare and Chan falls silent, brows creased.

“His name is Jisung,” says Minho proudly. “Isn’t he cute?”

Chan says “very” while Woojin asks “where did you meet him?”

Minho takes both their hands and marches through the crowd, dragging them in the direction of the campus coffee shop. “I’ll explain it to you over coffee, okay?”


	2. a drowning today?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> chan and woojin are cute; minho is still a bitch and jisung may not be as ready for him as he initially thought

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- hey so! second chapter is here! also if u like my writing please check out my other fics, i have another stray kids one so :))
> 
> \- also, if you have a fear of water/drowning... there's no death ofc but there is some panicking just a warning jghshgsh

One of the many wonderful things about being in a relationship with Bang Chan, Woojin decided, was that both of them were morning people. Not only did all of Woojin’s family hate early mornings, but he had always been the only early riser among any of his friends. This did not improve as he grew older, and he had fully expected to spend his university days as a loner in the mornings, when everyone else tried their best to get into the afternoon classes.

Enter Chan.

Halfway through his first year as a university student, Woojin, who had recently been asked to act as a campus guide if need be, (Woojin was sure they were meant to ask someone who had attended the place longer than he, but doubted they had much success finding many people to do it), was called in to give a tour for the new international transfer students.

Throughout the day, the group of twenty had dropped as the hours went by, until only one was left: a blonde- very handsome- boy around his age who had arrived from Australia: Bang Chan. Woojin loved him immediately- he was all blonde hair dimples, and Woojin found himself slightly besotted by Chan’s easy-going nature and the genuine happiness he approached everything with. The tour was more than over by three p.m., Woojin having finished showing him around and explaining it all, and by five it was clear both of them were drawing the conversations out, trying to make it last longer without explicitly stating so.

So when six p.m. came around, and Chan had tentatively asked Woojin if he wouldn’t mind showing him a good place for dinner, it seemed to the two that the universe was trying to tell them something.

Or if it wasn’t, Woojin was telling Chan something. A lot of things, actually, because by nine p.m. the ‘accidental’ physical contact combined with the perhaps excessive amount of alcohol they’d consumed alongside their chicken had brought the sexual tension in the room to an all-time high, and Chan’s hand on Woojin’s thigh in the bar soon became Chan’s lips on Woojin’s outside in his car, and then finally the two of them ended up back in Chan’s apartment off-campus, so lost in each other it was impossible to tell where one of them ended and the other began.

Woojin remembered telling Chan that night that he’d never met anyone like him, and Chan told him he would never find someone who captured his whole attention as quickly and wholly as Woojin had. It surprised no one at all when the second year began and Woojin left his dorm to move into Chan’s apartment.

Now, in the first week of their third and final year attending university, the two are just as comfortable and happy as they always have been, albeit more prone to bickering than that first night together.

“Why are you so dense?”

Woojin lolls on the bed on his back, head hanging off the edge as he stares at the closed bathroom door where Chan is still getting ready. It’s nearing eight a.m., and Woojin has been up since seven. Since moving in, he has always used the shower first each day. While he tells Chan it’s because he deserves to use it first, it’s really his desire for his boyfriend to rest a little more that keeps the routine in place. Even an extra twenty minutes sleep isn’t as much as Woojin wishes Chan to have.

A whine of complaint rings out over the running water. “How was I to know you were just going to pretend we didn’t know Jisung? We haven’t seen the kid in ages, it could’ve been true.”

It was to Minho’s misfortune that he had chosen to pretend someone who already existed in his friends’ lives was his ‘boyfriend’, and while Woojin would never do anything to jeopardise Minho’s scheme- because god only knows how desperately the nuisance that is Lee Minho is in need of a holiday- he was definitely intrigued as to why Minho bothered lying to them when he only needed to lie to Seungmin. Woojin had expected Minho to simply tell them at the coffee shop that it was all part of his scheme, but he had done nothing of the sort.

Instead, Minho had told the two that he and Jisung had met in the library during study periods, which Woojin knew to be a fat lie given Jisung despised the library, lacked an inside voice to use within the library, and to top it all, Jisung certainly did not study. Woojin knew this from the countless times before tests and exams that Jisung and his roommate Felix would blow up his phone with fearful texts predicting their dreadful marks because they never did anything until the last minute, preferring to go clubbing, get smashed, cry over their hangovers and then- maybe- give their textbooks a glance the night before.

In Woojin’s mind, anything Minho didn’t want him to know was prized information. Maybe Minho was just lying for the sake of lying- the fucker liked to play games for no reason other than boredom- but it still appealed to Woojin to have something to toy with.

Chan didn’t understand any of it. Woojin and Minho both made his head spin with the way they did things. He was a straightforward person who didn’t bother to look past the surface of things unless he felt it necessary, and Woojin hassled him over it frequently.

“ _You_ haven’t seen him in ages,” Woojin corrects, raising his voice to be heard over the tap noise. “I saw him just last week, and you would have too, if you hadn’t missed dinner again. Which reminds me, Felix has booked us all a table for dinner at the new Japanese restaurant near the cinema and you are not missing it this time.”

Felix, Chan’s cousin, had also come from Australia to attend university in Seoul. He was in his second year, rooming with his old friend Jisung who had begun at the same time. The four of them had started out spending a considerable amount of time together, until the third year work load had begun catching up to Woojin and Chan, and Chan in particular had been the most absent, stretching himself quite thin over his assignments and study.

“I’ll drive you to work,” Chan says, emerging from the bathroom. He’s fully dressed- to Woojin’s disappointment- and towelling off his still-damp hair. “I can pick you up from the train station afterwards so we can pick up Felix and Jisung and go from there.”

Woojin nods and flips onto his stomach, chin cupped in his hands as he watches Chan singing quietly under his breath while he diligently packs his laptop and charger into his bag, smiling when the blonde boy adds a protein bar inside the small pouch inside in case he didn’t have time to buy anything between classes. Chan always thinks of everything.

Chan glances at his watch. “We should head out now, if we’re gonna beat the traffic,” he says, hand on the door knob.

“Actually,” Woojin rolls off the bed and comes to stand by Chan, covering his boyfriend’s hand with his own. “I already checked online. We don’t need to leave for another fifteen minutes.”

“You’re not gonna let me go right now, are you?”

Woojin smiles slyly. “Nope.”

“Fine,” Chan rolls his eyes, but he’s already dimpling as Woojin pulls him back to the bed, kissing back fervently while tangling his hands in Woojin’s dark curls. “But not a minute over time!”

 

 

“Shit!”

Seungmin hisses and kicks at the gym door, struggling to keep it open as he juggles the two large binders in his arms, one simply school work and the other full of the many forms he was in the process of ensuring were all completed.

Hence this annoying trip to the gym.

“Hate this stupid place,” he mumbles, barely slipping through the heavy doors after a final, solid kick. He always does his best to avoid the place if he can, but unfortunately, as his roommate Jeongin informed him, “hot people go to the gym, and hot people are in relationships, therefore if you want to find couples for your survey you should go ask around at the gym.”

Of course, Jeongin was right, and eleven of the required twenty couples for his project happened to attend the gym weekly, if not daily. It isn’t that Seungmin hates the people in the gym, he just hates being sweaty and exercising in front of others, preferring to stay fit and healthy in his own way.

“Seungmin?”

Jisung appears in front of him, shirtless but with a towel around his waist. He is dry, Seungmin notes, so he assumes the other boy is about to go swimming. Something about the pool was more acceptable than the gym to Seungmin, he thought. Perhaps it was because you couldn’t see the sweat, being in the water-

“Yo, Min?” Jisung steps closer, head cocked questioningly. “You good?”

Ah, he zoned out again.

Seungmin clears his throat. “Sorry, what was that?”

“I just wanted to say... about yesterday…”

“You’re not really dating Minho,” Seungmin says bluntly. “I’m aware.”

Jisung flushes. “Hey, I could be!”

Seungmin laughs, shifting the binders to his left arm and wondering for the millionth time why the professor was so insistent on using paper (inconvenient and bad for the environment) over online forms (significantly more efficient and not adding to his back pain. He would consider suing if he had the money). “No, because all you ever do in our one class together is complain about being single.”

“So?”

“And,” Seungmin continues, smiling cheekily, “you stare at Lee Minho every time the dancers pass our classroom window on their way to the practice rooms. I don’t blame you for going along with it.”

“Oh my god.” Jisung places his hands on his reddening cheeks, the effect of it leaving him looking more squirrelly than usual. “Can you please just not say anything? I know it’s stupid but I just wanna see where this goes. Maybe it’s fate,” he adds, eyes sparkling at the thought.

Seungmin squints. “Excessive.”

Jisung frowns. “Don’t kill my vibe.” Ignoring Seungmin’s raised brow he continues, “I promise I won’t fuck up your project, though!”

“I can practically see the star emoji with the way you’re looking at me right now and it is annoying.”

“It’s my most used emoji,” Jisung supplies unhelpfully.

Seungmin rolls his eyes. “Of course it is. Anyway, be thankful you took the other class with me and not this one for your second elective. This one is a total nightmare and you would definitely have failed it.”

“Rude, but also true.” Jisung claps Seungmin on the shoulder and begins walking to the pool doors. “Minho mentioned coming to see me to talk at some point, I’ll message you about it later!”

The doors close behind him and Seungmin sighs. “Moron.”

“So that’s the dumb friend you were talking about.”

A red-haired figure arrives beside Seungmin, grinning from ear to ear. Jeongin is always greatly invested in Seungmin’s life- Seungmin only has himself to blame for that, given he tells the younger boy everything over tea late at night.

“Show some respect,” Seungmin chides, setting off down the hall without sparing a glance at his roommate. “I can’t even remember the last time you called anyone hyung.”

He sighs when the younger boy simply laughs and runs after him. Seungmin’s first year at university had been a disaster in terms of rooming, being stuck with the loudest, most obnoxious person who tended to blast his music into the a.m. if Seungmin didn’t physically threaten him otherwise.

He wondered how Haechan’s new roommate was doing. Woojin told him the guy was a super chill Christian guy from Canada.

Seungmin hoped all that prayer had him ready to meet the devil.

By contrast, Jeongin had initially seemed the perfect roommate- an angel, Seungmin had dared to think. He had only just begun his first year this week, but had moved in just before January began, giving the two plenty of time to become acquainted. At first Jeongin had only been meek and polite, excited but not excitable, and Seungmin was only too happy to show him around. As head of three different clubs at university, Seungmin was very involved in campus life and considered himself an asset to Jeongin’s settling in.

Clearly, Jeongin was now extremely comfortable with life.

“Seungmin-hy-”

Jeongin stops mid-word, grin spreading across his face as the older boy glares.

“Say it,” Seungmin says forcefully. “Or I won’t let you eat any of my cooking tonight.”

“No need,” Jeongin calls, skipping backwards away from Seungmin, nearly smacking into a passer-by. His eyes widen as Seungmin increases his speed after him. “My mother already sent me money to go out and eat beef! You can have some if you’re nice!”

“I’ll kill you!”

 

 

Jisung reaches out for the pool wall, one hand on the ledge as he reduces his kicking speed, breathing evenly. He checks the time on his waterproof watch- a gift from his mother, the one thing he takes good care of- noting that he still has just over ten minutes left before closing. Flipping backwards, he falls into a steady backstroke back down the pool.

It calms him, the measured strokes and solitude of it all. He has a lane to himself as always. Jisung favours swimming at the end of the day, getting in those last two hours when everyone else is rushing off campus to relax elsewhere. Most days he is alone, able to enjoy the tranquillity to the fullest-

His arm hits the ledge, but this time a face stares down at him, pretty- and cranky. Jisung blinks in confusion at the sudden intrusion. He bobs upwards, spinning around to face the other boy.

“Minho, what are you-”

“YAH! I have been waiting GOD KNOWS HOW LONG!”

Jisung splutters, pulling his goggles up onto his head. “You didn’t tell me you were coming here! How would I know?”

Minho lets out a huff. “You texted me, ‘at the pool, meet me at six’, so here I am!”

“I just checked the time and it’s only five-fifty! I still have ten minutes!”

“Anyone with any manners knows to arrive with ten minutes leeway.”

“That’s just dumb,” Jisung says. He shakes his head back and forth like a dog, sending water droplets everywhere.

Minho shrieks. “You idiot! I’m going out later and now I’m wet!”

He crouches down by the side of the pool, grabbing Jisung’s ear. “First wasting my time, now-”

He breaks off with a scream as Jisung, tired of the ceaseless complaints, kicks back off the ledge and starts a freestyle back up the pool.

Minho lands in the water with a loud splash. His arms flail for the ledge but he fell too far from it, and his stress is causing spots to fill his eyes to the point where he cannot even tell which direction it would be in. “HELP! Help-”

Water fills his mouth as he slips under, and he kicks frantically, struggling for somewhere to stand. With a cry he remembers he is in the deep end, and it’s after hours, and he can’t fucking swim because his mother spoilt him rotten and never forced him to take the lessons he now wishes he had.

He screams again, calling Jisung’s name as loudly as he can before he shuts his eyes in fear, sinking below the surface.

Jisung stops mid-stroke as his name cuts through the air. He turns, gasping as Minho’s blonde head disappears under the water. He takes off as quickly as he can, diving under, down to the floor to kick off it. Minho’s eyes are screwed shut but he’s still kicking, almost batting Jisung’s face as he wraps his arms around the elder boy’s waist and tugs him back to the top.

The second they burst out of the water, Minho’s breathing accelerates, clambering over Jisung without any thought, shoving the younger’s shoulders back down under water.

“Minho, stop- calm down- Minho!”

Jisung slaps Minho’s cheek, the resounding noise echoing in the empty space. Still holding the elder, he pushes him against the pool wall, holding him still and safe above the water. “You’re fine, everything’s fine, you’re safe-“

Tears run down Minho’s cheeks and he shakes but says nothing, just buried his face in the crook of Jisung’s neck while Jisung rubs his back, whispering reassurances while the elder boy’s blonde curls plaster themselves along his neck.

After a minute or so, Minho pulls away and turns around, grabbing the ledge. He climbs out, shivering, although he is clearly trying to stop it. He silently overlooks his now sopping clothes.

“There’s towels in the cupboard to your right, in the change rooms,” Jisung offers quietly.

Minho nods stiffly in reply, then turns on heel and exits the area.

Jisung watches him go, then glances at his wrist. Two minutes past closing. No one had come to tell him to get out yet.

One more lap wouldn’t hurt.

 

 

“Hey kid!”

Jisung closes the door to his and Felix’s dorm behind him, smiling but not greeting the others back.

Felix sits on their couch with his cousin Chan beside him, and Woojin sits in the smaller armchair alongside them, a concerned expression on his kind face.

“Sungie, what’s wrong?” He gestures for Jisung to come over, and he does, crossing the room to comfortably sit between Woojin’s legs.

Jisung leans his head back against the chair, humming contentedly when Woojin cards his hand through his still-drying, fluffy hair. “Minho came by the pool today.”

“Oh my god,” Felix scrambles closer to Chan on the couch, leaning in Jisung’s direction. “What happened?”

“He shouted at me then promptly drowned,” Jisung says flatly, closing his eyes as the three boys begin squawking loudly.

“Explain!”                                                                                                                                                        

So Jisung does, quickly and without his usual energy, still wrapped up internally about what a mess it all was. He sighs dully. “If he didn’t hate me before, he definitely hates me now.”

“No one would ever hate you, Jisung,” Chan says with a kind smile.

“Minho might.”

Chan slaps Woojin’s knee. “Don’t be silly!”

“Nah, he’s right.” Jisung gets to his feet. “Honestly he’s kind of a bitch.”

“But he’s hot,” teases Felix, waggling his brows. He dances away out of Chan’s reach. “I’m just saying! And why have we never met Minho anyway, if he’s your friend and all?”

Woojin shrugs, going to the door to tug his shoes on. “He keeps to himself mostly. Like he has lots of friends but he just prefers to spend most of his time on his own, I guess.”

Chan opens the front door, checking over the boys to make sure they all have their coats before heading out. As Jisung passes him, he quickly half-hugs the younger boy. “Everything’s gonna be fine, okay? It wasn’t your fault he fell in the pool. And you helped him! I’m sure he’ll see it that way too.”

Jisung nods, but remains unconvinced. If he knew anything about Minho, it was that Minho certainly would not see it that way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im curious as to what you guys are thinking, if there's anything you're anticipating to happen or anything you particularly want to happen?
> 
> also how do y'all expect changbin to make an appearance?
> 
> anyways thanks for reading xx


	3. chicken, again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> minho sulks, jisung is impatient and felix faces up to his crush

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hiho new chap!
> 
> not exactly riveting stuff just yet but felt like updating before i inevitably get writer's block sooner or later~

“He slapped me, Hyunjin! Slapped!”

A week has passed since Minho’s Incident at the pool, and he still isn’t sure whether he is more embarrassed or traumatised about the way everything went down.

For the first few days afterwards, Minho had mulled over his options: transferring to a new university, never leaving his apartment again and changing his name and moving to another continent being the top candidates.

“Shut up,” was all Hyunjin had said when presented with the ideas.

He’d finally gone out for dinner with Woojin two nights ago, praying to god not to run into Jisung under any circumstances. Apparently there was a god, because he had not seen or heard one peep from the squirrel-looking boy since leaving him.

Honestly he was a little surprised. Boys and girls alike were always eager to get a chance with Minho Since entering high school, he’d always been extremely popular for his looks alone. Hell, he couldn’t even grab a coffee without a number scrawled on the accompanying napkin.

And yet Han Jisung, who had seemed more than eager to give Minho his number, now hadn’t texted since Minho nearly drowned. And, come to think of it, he hadn’t got out of the pool to help him either- decidedly abnormal behaviour by comparison to the usual doting from people interested in him.

Minho frowns. Who does Jisung think he is, anyway?

Hyunjin runs his hands through his hair and purses his lips in thought. “Were you being a bitch again? Because I definitely-”

“No! What the hell!” Minho tosses a glare and a lone dirty sock at his roommate in disbelief. There was no need for his roommate to know he was only near the edge to strangle Jisung. “I fell into the pool and-”

“YOU fell into the pool?” Hyunjin throws himself down onto the bed. He flips onto his stomach, bracing on his elbows. “You, Lee Minho, professed fearer of water, went close enough to the pool to fall in?”

This was exactly why Minho had held off telling Hyunjin earlier what really happened. He was only telling him now because, well, Hyunjin isn’t a total idiot, and faking sick for a week only works so well for so long.

“Obviously not on purpose! There was no need to slap me!”

“Yeah, they tend to slap people panicking in case they drown the rescuer with them. You knew that, right?”

Minho knew nothing of the sort.

“That’s preposterous.”

Hyunjin cackles. “Again, stop being so dramatic.” His brows crease. “Why would you go to the pool in the first place? You don’t normally go near it.”

“Oh,” Minho shifts, turning on his side. “Jisung texted me to meet him.”

“So? You could’ve waited in the lobby.”

Minho knew that and? What about it?

“I was impatient and wanted to leave as soon as I could.”

“You wanted to see him shirtless didn’t you.” It’s a statement, not a question, and Minho hates the glint in Hyunjin’s eyes right now.

“What?” Minho’s face heats up and he gags in an attempt to hide it. “No! I told you, I was just in a rush- Jin, where are you going?”

Hyunjin dances out the door, disappearing for a few seconds before twirling back in, landing back on the bed. He waves the cell phone in his hand. “Calling in for pizza. I cannot be bothered going out or cooking.”

He dials their usual, wriggling his brows as Minho watches quietly. “Minho gay,” Hyunjin whispers. He snorts when Minho smacks his thigh. “Oh, hi! Yes I’d like to place an order.”

 

Jisung yawns and shifts around to find a more comfortable position on his red bean bag, his legs stretched to rest on Felix’s bright blue one. Behind him on the couch is Felix, asleep on his back, limbs sprawled out and hanging off the couch. His mouth is open and he’s snoring, and not even the drama playing on their TV is quiet enough to drown it out.

Grabbing the remote, Jisung turns up the volume a little more. He flips open his phone, scrolling back to his texts with Minho, the last ones sent after Jisung told him to meet after he was done swimming.

_LMH: don’t get it twisted. I need a partner for this free holiday thing._

_LMH: I mean this is good for you too, so…_

He’d never replied.

Not only is he unsure of how to reply, he’s also unsure if he wants to.

It’s one thing to lust over a pretty dancer from your second story classroom and know nothing of his personality, Jisung muses, staring absently at the television. But it is another thing entirely to be berated by a short-tempered and entitled- albeit it beautiful- boy once finally meeting him.

He had never expected it to be easy, talking to Lee Minho. Jisung knew he was attractive, not in the same movie star way as Minho, but he was confident in his appearance and was pretty sure he was better looking than the average person. Cocky? A little. His friends had always called him so.

He didn’t care.

Because of this, it was his observations that made him so sure that Minho would be difficult to talk to, not a lack of confidence, although he’d certainly played that up.

From what he’d heard, Minho almost never dated. Campus gossip ominously suggested that he was “exclusively into older guys”- which Jisung seriously hoped wasn’t the case or he was screwed- or that he preferred one night stands to actual dates- Jisung _could_ get behind that- and finally, the least popular but still theorised possibility that Lee Minho was a virgin with zero experience whatsoever.

And Jisung had absolutely no idea how he felt about that one.

He did notice straight away that Minho saw him as an easy target: cute, soft, a nerd who couldn’t believe someone with Minho’s looks would talk to him- and Jisung played right into that; he jumbled with his phone, gaped a little, widened his eyes and puffed his cheeks in the innocent way he’d always done when he needed something from adults as a kid. And clearly Minho had fallen for it hook, line and sinker, but after playing bait Jisung found himself reeling from the first catch and now he wondered if he should simply throw it back and try elsewhere.

Not that Minho was a fish exactly.

That would be weird.  

Jisung groans and flicks through the channels again, thinking back to three days ago when he begged Seungmin to get a new couple to fill in for he and Minho so he could bail. Seungmin had smacked him with his laptop case, told him firmly that it had already been hard enough to get the right amount of couples and then told him to fuck off.

“Dickhead,” Jisung mutters, switching the TV off. He turns to slap Felix on the leg. “Felix, wake up.”

More snoring.

“FELIX!”

“AAH!”

Felix jerks awake, falling off the couch and smacking his head on the coffee table. “Fuck!”

Jisung bursts into laughter so hard he starts coughing, shaking his head at his roommate’s groaning. “I wanna go grab dinner so put on something decent, man.”

“No sympathy, as always,” Felix says ruefully, rubbing his head. He grabs a white V-neck jumper and pulls it on, then dusts off his jeans. “I’m good to go.”

 

Going out for Anything That Wasn’t Chicken had proved almost impossible, and Felix and Jisung sigh as they sit in their car after twenty minutes of driving around looking, only to wind up in front of their usual chicken bar.

“I mean. It’s our favourite for a reason, right?”

Jisung shrugs. “I guess.”

They climb out of the car and head inside, the waitress recognising them instantly and guiding them to their usual booth by the window. She doesn’t wait for them to order, simply lists off their usual and leaves after they confirm it.

“Oh my god.”

Felix’s mouth gapes open, and Jisung swears he can almost see heart eyes as his friend stares out the window. The rain beating heavily against the pane partially obscures the object of his attention but Jisung can make out the figure of a boy in a long black coat with a hood on, hiding his face.

“Who is that?”

“Oh,” a flush spreads across Felix’s smattering of freckles. “Just this guy in my music class. He’s an amazing songwriter like… he’s seriously fucking good. And he raps like no one else,” he continues, eyes sparkling, a sort of fascinated expression on his face. “The energy he has, I swear no one else comes close to it. He uploads his stuff to SoundCloud, and-”

“And he also eats chicken at this very bar,” Jisung interrupts, eyes tracking the boy from outside and over to a booth not far from them. “What’s his name?”

“Seo Changbin,” Felix replies dreamily. He cups his chin in his palms.

“So, do you talk to him in class or anything?”

Felix shakes his head, eyes wide. “God, no. I’ve never even spoken to him,” he confesses. “He sits up the back mostly, and gets called on a lot to provide examples with what we’re learning because his music and songwriting is so good. He seems pretty nice but I’m me so I kinda just sit in my seat, observe, maybe nap and leave. He’d be great to work with though, if I could work up the nerve.”

“Maybe you don’t need to,” Jisung says, trying to stop the smile forming on his lips.

“What- oh. Hi?”

Changbin stands in front of them, his hood off to reveal slightly damp straight black hair and sharp edged features, a shaved brow adding to emphasise his ‘dark and handsome’ vibe. Despite the somewhat rebel look he seems to be going for, he smiles brightly, if not even a little shyly.

“Hey… Felix, isn’t it?”

If the look of pure shock in his roommate’s eyes was anything to go by, Jisung doesn’t think Felix is quite ready to speak just yet. “Yeah, Felix.” He extends his hand to the other, grinning when Changbin grips it and shakes firmly. “I’m his roommate, Han Jisung.”

“Oh, cool, nice to meet you,” Changbin says. His voice is a little gravelly, yet not threatening. What it really reminded him of, thought Jisung, was like if you had a guard dog that you felt really protected by and just a kind of warm feeling-

“Uh, so…”

Oh, right. Jisung tries not to laugh at his ridiculous train of thought by steeling himself into remembering all the times he has made people uncomfortable by laughing at his own imagination.

“My friend just ditched meeting me here and I really hate eating alone, would you guys mind if I sat with you? Not if you’re discussing anything serious or anything-”

“Oh my god, no, it’s fine,” Jisung says hurriedly, ignoring the daggers Felix was shooting him from across the table. “In fact, why don’t you take a seat by Felix? Our food shouldn’t be too far off!”

“Thank you, really. My friend’s such a mess at the moment, this is the fourth time this week he’s cancelled. I have no idea what’s got into him.”

Changbin shrugs off the coat to reveal a tight fitting black Versace shirt underneath, tucked into even tighter black jeans. His arms are big; he’s much buffer than Jisung had anticipated given the fact that the boy didn’t seem very tall.

Felix looks to be near drooling, and is only saved by the waitress serving up a plate of chicken in front of him.

“Would you mind directing my order over to this table, please?” Changbin asks politely. “And three bottles of soju, if you wouldn’t mind.”

“Oh, you didn’t have to!” Felix exclaims as Jisung whistles and sings, “we gon get cruuuunk!”

Changbin laughs. “No, it’s fine, on me. For letting me eat with you guys. I’ll strangle Minho when I see him next, I swear to fuck.”

Jisung freezes. “Minho?”

“Does he go to our university?” Felix questions, so curious he forgets to be embarrassed while talking to the other boy.

“Yeah, he does,” Changbin’s brows lift in surprise as he takes the bottles from the waitress’ hands. He thanks her and then hands two to Felix and Jisung, then takes a sip from his own. “He’s a second year dance major, Lee Minho. You guys know him?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> seo, mr changbin is finally here and felix is a cute baby uwu 
> 
> thank u for all the feedback so far! x


	4. a song of fire and ice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> minsung are hot and cold and seungmin meets someone who unexpectedly admires his unconventional clubbing attire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for making everyone wait a bit longer than usual but this chapter is a little longer than usual ... i think 
> 
> focus is primarily back on minsung this chapter, although seungmin, felix, changbin and hyunjin are also fairly present. barely any woochan and zero jeongin but i promise ill bring the baby into it more he just couldnt rly be with them here mdsfkjhs
> 
> im writing this at 4 am again ill proofread later hhhh

“I’m so fucking bored.”

Jisung sits cross legged on the window seat in their apartment, hands clasped idly in his lap. His nose and forehead are pressed against the glass as he looks outside, frowning at the people below, all huddled under umbrellas as they get into cars and taxis to go out.

It’s a Saturday night. The cold of winter and the presence of rain isn’t as off-putting to students as some would imagine; rather, the town will be full of life, bars filled and restaurants booked out, but Jisung has been distracted of late and hadn’t thought to make any plans.

“Can you get off the glass? I just cleaned the windows yesterday.”

Felix grumbles on the couch, leaning back with the remote in hand. It’s been ten minutes since he pulled up Netflix, but he’s still scrolling through searching for a movie.

Jisung shrugs and pulls away. His nose is now cold at the tip. He rubs it twice.

“So,” he says, not turning to face Felix. He peers down as a boy exits the campus grocery store below, a black umbrella obscuring his face. He walks briskly across the grass instead of taking the path, appearing to be headed for the bus shelter where the other students gather.

Another boy appears, leaving the same store, and he tears across the grass. He slows down upon reaching the second boy, and immediately hits the other, whilst trying to slip under the umbrella too. The first boy dodges him twice, almost causing the second- taller and dark-haired- to fall on the wet grass.

Jisung giggles as the two swing around in circles, kicking at each other’s’ feet to get control.

“What are you doing?”

Felix climbs over the back of the couch and stands beside Jisung, leaning on his roommate’s shoulders to look.

“Just watching them.” Jisung presses against the window once more, but Felix says nothing. Instead he climbs up beside the other boy, smoothing out the pillow beneath him.

A few more kicks under the watch of Felix and Jisung and finally the dark-haired boy loosens the first’s grip on the umbrella, sending it flying a couple of metres before landing in a muddy puddle.

The first boy raises his hands to his head, a howl on his lips that would surely be deafening were they outside to hear it. But Jisung isn’t laughing anymore; instead, he and Felix are open-mouthed in shock, staring at the boy laughing and roughly jostling the darker haired one, who he sends to pick up the umbrella.

Minho, just the faintest trace of blonde hair visible under the hood of his puffer jacket, looks up at the dorms.

Jisung and Felix freeze when the other boy pauses upon seeing them, the smile disappearing from his face. Felix squeaks and shuffles back, falling off.  Jisung doesn’t flinch or check on Felix, just holds Minho’s stare.

Minho glares and turns away, taking the other boy’s arm and marching to the road. Jisung watches as a sleek black car pulls up and the two get in.

“Is everyone going out but us?”

Jisung sighs. “I’m calling Seungmin.”

 

 

“Another shot!”

Minho pushes a shot glass into Hyunjin’s hand, giggling when the taller boy sways on his feet. The two of them had been steadily drinking since arriving at the club, rapidly becoming more unbearable in the eyes of Changbin, who sits beside them at the bar with only water in hand.

“Minho, can you chill with the shots?” Changbin hands his water to Hyunjin after the younger boys downs his. “You know it doesn’t take much to get him going.”

“Yeah, I know, that’s why I have you to look after him,” Minho shoots back cheekily. He begins dancing, then takes the hand of a guy who pulls him into the throng of bodies on the dancefloor.

He disappears from their sight, much to Changbin’s equal relief and annoyance, and Changbin turns back to Hyunjin, who seems to be trying his best to balance Changbin’s water bottle on his head.

“Stop that,” Changbin swipes the bottle back instantly.

Hyunjin pouts.

“Why did I agree to this?”

“Because you love us,” Hyunjin hiccups. He smiles brightly. “I love you too, Bin.”

Changbin accepts the younger boy’s kiss to his cheek with a sigh, moving over slightly when Hyunjin decides to curl up next to him on the bench seat.

In the past six months, Minho had begun partying more than usual. Be it nightclubs, bars or house parties, every weekend and even some week nights Minho could be found drinking until late. Sometimes he would bring Hyunjin. Sometimes he would call Changbin. Other times he wouldn’t.

As much as Changbin grumbles about playing babysitter to Hyunjin and pandering to Minho’s every whim, he prefers it to the days where there is no text and no call, when he doesn’t know if the blonde boy is okay until he catches him on his way to the dance studio by chance.

There are days when Minho draws so far into himself that Changbin wishes he or Changbin could reach him, but they can’t. He wonders if anyone can.

“Bin, bin, bin, bin!”

Hyunjin’s singing cuts off his train of thought.

“What now?”

“I was thinking…”

Changbin feigns surprise. “You were?”

“Yes,” titters Hyunjin, taking a sip of water from the bottle (Changbin doesn’t remember when he even took it back off him). He doesn’t register Changbin’s insult. “You mentioned you met the Jisung Minho knows. Why don’t you message him and invite him?”

“Now why would I do that?”

“Because it would be funny and I know you want to see them arguing.”

Changbin hums in response. “Maybe.”

 

“Uno!”

Felix shouts excitedly, clutching his final car to his chest.

“Don’t know about that one, chief,” Seungmin grins. He slaps a draw four card down on the pile, cackling when Felix’s smile crumples.

“Fucking dickhead.”

Jisung sits beside them, having already beaten them both. He enjoys watching the two play, Felix so readily excited by his cards only to have his hopes of winning dashed by another evilly dealt card from Seungmin.

His phone buzzes, and he opens it without bothering to look at the notification.

Its Changbin, he realises with surprise. A quick text asking him to join Changbin at a nightclub down the street. Jisung is a little too familiar with it.

“Hey guys,” Jisung waits for the two to stop yelling. “Changbin’s asking if we wanna meet him at a club.”

Seungmin frowns. “It’s past midnight.”

“What time do you normally go out then, five p.m.?” Jisung simpers, ignoring Seungmin’s glare. He turns to Felix. “Come onnnn you can see Changbin, you know you want to.”

Felix nods, cheeks reddening instantly. “Kinda yeah.”

“Fuck both of you.” Seungmin pushes his glasses back on his nose more securely, looking more than anything like a tired professor. “How would we get there?”

“My car. I’ll drive.”

Seungmin shuts it down immediately. “No, your car is a bomb and you’ll get “crunk” and we’ll end up dead on the sidewalk prostituting ourselves for a ride home.”

Jisung wriggles his brows. “It isn’t prostitution if you like it.”

“Red card.”

“Sounds hot.”

“Well now we’re definitely _not_ going-”

Felix snaps his fingers, getting to his feet. He shakes a phone at them. “Uber in eight minutes. Get on it.”

“WHAT!” Jisung shrieks, leaping to his feet. “I’m in PAJAMAS! Why would you order an Uber now?”

“Because I ordered on Seungmin’s phone and he won’t cancel because otherwise he’ll be the one paying the cancellation fee.”

“You genius,” Jisung says as Seungmin mutters “you sick son of a bitch” before lunging at Felix.

The Australian laughs manically and runs to the bathroom, locking the door with a resounding click.

“In protest I will be going to the club in my pajamas.”

Jisung raises an eyebrow. “Well, that’s your terrifying tyrannosaur decision to make, not mine dude.”

“It’s a Carnotaur, actually,” Seungmin sniffs.

“Whatever, dude!” Jisung calls over his shoulder. He slams repeatedly on the bathroom door. “Open up, I have four minutes to get some makeup on!”

The door opens just long enough for Jisung to slip in before the lock is heard again.

“Why am I here,” Seungmin asks himself in the unflattering reflection of his spoon. He digs into the ice cream tub the three of them were sharing earlier, vowing to eat it alone when he inevitably wakes before them in the morning (read: mid-to-late afternoon).

He wonders if he should take a jacket, given the rain, but remembers that lining up to cloak it once he’s inside the too hot building is less than ideal. Dinosaur pajamas it is.

He checks his phone. “GUYS YOU HAVE ONE MINUTE.”

Seungmin rolls his eyes at Jisung’s cursing and walks to the door, shoes in hand.

Felix exits the bathroom, also holding his own shoes. “Let’s just go down.”

“DO NOT LEAVE WITHOUT ME!”

 

Astonishingly Jisung makes it to the car after only holding them up thirty seconds.

And he looks fantastic, to Seungmin’s annoyance.

In such a limited time Jisung had managed to put on a little concealer, black eyeliner and dashed clear sparkly eyeshadow over his eyelids. He wears a pair of extremely tight black ripped jeans and a black singlet with the armholes far to low down on his ribcage, and his usual silver piercings stay are in his ears.

Jisung pulls another earring out of his pocket, a thin chain style. “Grabbed this on the way out,” he grins, putting it on. He runs a hand through his hair. “Didn’t have time to style but I think it looks okay.”

“You look like an emo,” Seungmin says flatly.

Jisung ignores him.

“You look great!” Smiles Felix, offering a thumbs up in encouragement.

Seungmin squints. “Isn’t Felix the one interested in Changbin?”

Felix blushes again while Jisung explains, “yeah, but I just like to look hot at all times, ya feel?”

“No.”

“How tragic for you.”

Jisung misses Seungmin’s retort, opening his phone to let Changbin know they’re on their way. Then he opens his group chat with Felix, Woojin and Chan to extend the invite.

 

-Yeah the fuckin bois-

Jiddies: wanna come club

ihateveryone: fuck off

Chris: we’re staying in to study for the exams :) 

Jiddies: is that smiley face passive aggressive?

Chris: what? No!

Jiddies: just checking

Jiddies: it would be if it was Woojin

ihateveryone: and what about it?

Muzz lord: oh shit yeah exams

Chris: are you sure you don’t want to study? It would be really beneficial to your grades guys

Jiddies: studying over clubbing on a Saturday night? Couldn’t be me

ihateveryone: don’t you dare text me when y’all start your procrastination panic

Muzz lord: oop-

Jiddies: peace out laid ease

 

Aside from a total once-over of Seungmin from the bouncer, the three of them make it inside without any troubles.

They head straight for the bar, Felix linking his arm through Seungmin’s with a laugh. “Man, the bouncer checked you out!”

Jisung looks at him with disbelief. “Bruh he was looking at the triceratops.”

“Carnotaur,” Seungmin hisses.

“Huh?” Jisung gestures to the roof, implying he can’t hear him over the music.

“This music sucks,” Seungmin says. He follows the other two anyway, happy to see them heading toward a separate area with booths.

A boy hails them over to one, and Seungmin recognises him as Changbin from the photos Felix had shown him earlier whilst stalking/sobbing over the boy.

Changbin holds out his hand. “I’m Changbin,” he raises his voice over the music, smiling kindly. “Nice fit.”

“You look taller in your photos,” Seungmin replies, shaking his hand.

“That’s because I take his photos.”

Seungmin turns to see the owner of the voice behind him, and is displeased to find himself having to look up at the newcomer, who happens to be far too pretty in a way that makes Seungmin wish he hadn’t been such an obstinate donkey and worn his pajamas out.

“I’m Hyunjin,” the boy giggles, clearly very drunk.

 _Thank god_ , thinks Seungmin. “H-hi- I’m Seungmin.”

“I like your Carnotaur,” Hyunjin says with another giggle.

Seungmin freezes in panic, staring at the other. “Y-you what- you know- you don’t think it’s a stegosaurus or something?”

“Congratulations, you’ve found someone as nerdy as you,” Jisung pushes them both into the booth, and Seungmin has to use every brain cell he has to control himself from not seizing up when Hyunjin automatically drapes himself across Seungmin’s chest.

“Uh oh,” Hyunjin sing-songs, looking behind where Jisung, Changbin and Felix are standing.

Seungmin follows his gaze to where a very surprised looking Minho stands, hands on his hips.

“Changbin… you didn’t mention…” he pauses, noting Seungmin sitting in the booth. “… that you invited my boyfriend! Ji, baby, what a wonderful surprise!”

He envelops Jisung in a- perhaps worryingly- crushing hug, smiling around at the group. He lets his hand slide to Jisung’s waist, then to his hand, and Jisung hates the shiver that runs down his spine at Minho’s touch.

“I thought you were staying in tonight,” he says through slightly gritted teeth, and Jisung finds himself no longer fake smiling.

“I couldn’t stay away from you any longer.”

“Disgusting.” Seungmin shakes his head.

Hyunjin smiles up at him, then flops back further, arranging himself to lie along the seat, his head in Seungmin’s lap. “Tell me about your favourite dinosaurs.”

Minho watches in confusion for a moment, before moving backwards toward the dancefloor, tugging Jisung with him. “We’re gonna go dance,” he smiles, waving to the little group.

Changbin watches silently while Felix grins sunnily at Jisung. Seungmin and Hyunjin are already lost in conversation, and Jisung wonders if maybe next time he should wear some pajamas to the club to pick someone up.

 

Surprisingly, the two of them make it through almost twenty minutes of dancing while having a purely fun time. They don’t outright converse the entire time, but find they like the same songs and scream the lyrics loudly. Jisung observes that every time Minho realises a song he really loves is playing, he squeals and jumps higher, bringing Jisung with him.

To the songs with choreography he doesn’t know, Minho improvises with humour, and lots of bouncing up and down. One particularly sexy song has the blonde boy grinding against Jisung for just a fraction of a second before spinning around, placing his arms round Jisung’s neck and their faces are so close together Jisung thinks he might explode under Minho’s gaze.

“You’re a good dancer!” Minho shouts suddenly, surprise evident on his face.

Jisung tilts his head. “I’m good at everything.”

Minho raises a brow. “Everything?”

There’s a look in his eye that tells Jisung he means a lot of different things, and he can’t bring himself to ignore it. “I can show you if you’d like,” he says by Minho’s ear, and he can tell by the blonde’s expression that he definitely did hear his words over the thundering bass.

Minho unhooks his hands from the younger’s neck and spins him round, digging his chin into the crook of Jisung’s neck. He has one hand on Jisung’s waist, setting a pace for them to dance at, although Jisung doesn’t know if he’s dancing anymore so much as he’s simply grinding back against Minho, chest heaving with both physical exertion and uncertainty at what is going on.

He jolts when Minho bites his earlobe, other hand in Jisung’s hair, tugging the younger boy’s head to one side to give him better access.

“Don’t say things you don’t mean.”

“Wha-”

Minho spins him round again, then takes Jisung’s hand once more, leading him away from the dancing to a less crowded space in a corner. He lets Jisung get his breath back, the brown-haired boy resting his head against the wall and breathing heavily.

“Why did you agree so quickly to me saying you were my boyfriend?”

“I-I-”

“You thought I was good looking? Is that it?” Minho brings a hand to Jisung’s waist, sliding the other to the small of his back, leaving the younger breathless for a second.

“You kinda are-”

“So this works for you, then?” Minho smirks, cocking his head to the side. He brings a hand up to tap the corner by Jisung’s mouth, as if trying to get him to smile. “Because I can let our last meeting slide. I’m great at getting past things quite comfortably when it suits…”

Jisung hisses as Minho begins ever so slightly rubbing circles on the skin on his waist. He wonders how he didn’t even notice the blonde slipping his hand under his singlet in the first place.

“This could suit me quite well.”

He’s looking at Jisung again, waiting for an answer, and there’s a warmth in his eyes that Jisung isn’t used to having on him. He knows Minho is asking him to go home with him, and he wants to say yes, he really does.

God, he _really_ does.

But he also… doesn’t?

“You’re always so hot and cold.” Jisung rubs his temples, frustrated. “How do I know how long this is gonna last?”

What the fuck? Since when did Han Jisung turn down sex from the likes of Lee Minho?

_Han Jisung, I swear to god, get a grip on yourself right now-_

“I just… I don’t know? Maybe this isn’t the best way to go about things?”

Why was he doing this? Was he really about to throw away the potential best sex of his life- if he believed certain rumours anyway- for a reckless attempt to confess his love/hate crush to a boy who would step on his heart and shatter it for a laugh if it were possible?

_Don’t be stupid, don’t be stupid, don’t be stupid-_

Minho presses closer to him, face buried in the hollow of Jisung’s neck. His lips are suddenly on Jisung’s skin, and Jisung feels like he’s on fire.

He shakes his head. “Minho, I’m serious.”

A giggle from the blonde. He pulls back, looking into Jisung’s eyes, pupils dilated and so black. He bites his lip. “You’re always hot.”

He goes in for a kiss, a real one, and Jisung raises his hand to block him before he even realises what he’s doing. With a sigh, he stills Minho completely, a hand on the older boy’s jaw keeping them locked in place, and just like that, Minho’s fiery energy is replaced with an icy stare.

“I can’t even fuck you without you fucking up.”

A wave of coldness washes over Jisung. His heart beats erratically, he feels his stomach drop and tears prick at his eyes. His head swims and he wonders if it’s Minho or the alcohol finally hitting him. He doesn’t know, but all he wants to do is leave.

“What?” Minho taunts, voice cold. “Cat got your tongue?”

_He doesn’t want you, not now, not ever. Don’t you fucking forget it._

Jisung rips Minho’s hands off his waist, tongue already searing as furiously hot and vicious words form themselves in his mouth. “I should’ve let you drown.”

He storms away, leaving Minho in open-mouthed shock, a bitter taste in his mouth as he walks straight to the doors of the club, trying his hardest to block out the horror of what he just said.

 

“Why do you keep checking your phone?”

Jisung looks up, turning to Seungmin. He adjusts his shoulder a little bit to make it a bit more comfortable for Felix, who leans against him, asleep despite the loud music the driver plays. The three of them have been quiet for most of the ride, clearly tired.

“Honestly? I’m waiting for Minho to text some bullshit.”

“Bullshit like what?”

“I don’t know. Something awful. I deserve it.”

Seungmin knits his brows. “What happened back there?”

“I let him get to me.”

“I don’t get it.”

“Yeah, well,” Jisung shrugs one shoulder so as not to disturb Felix. “You don’t know Minho.”

“Do you?”

 

Seungmin opens the door for Jisung, who carried Felix all the way from the car to their dorm. “I’ll take the couch.”

Jisung pauses at the bedroom door. “You sure? You can have my bed.”

Seungmin is settling on the couch, conveniently already in pajamas. “Nah, I’m good.”

He gives a thumbs up and disappears into the cushions, and Jisung walks over to lay Felix down on his bed. Sometimes he’d try to help the blonde boy out of his clothes, but he can tell Felix is simply too tired for that today. He reaches for the blankets, and Felix begins to stir below him.

Felix blinks up at him sleepily. “Hey, Jisung,” he whispers.

“What?” Jisung squats down beside him.

“Come here,” Felix tugs Jisung’s sleeve, bringing the other boy’s face close to his own as if preparing to tell Jisung a very big secret. “Changbin asked me out.”

Jisung closes his eyes and chuckles quietly, playing along with it. “That’s amazing.” He leans away, pulling Felix’s sheets up to his chin and standing up, moving to go to his own bed. “I’m very happy for you.”

“Sungie, wait.”

“What is it?”

“Minho likes you. Changbin told me.”

A corner of Jisung’s mouth quirks upwards. _Oh, the irony_. “Is that so?”

Felix smiles, eyes already shut, voice faint. “It is. I know it is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me to me: did they need to go so hard tho 
> 
> any feedback is appreciated always, again, thanks for reading! <333


	5. keeping afloat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> minsung make some headway and jeongin makes an unlikely friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a heck of a lot longer than the other chapters because its the first one where everyone has their own plot line running, and yes, jeongin is finally in it for more than three seconds!

“Okay, I think I’m good to go.”

Woojin assesses himself quickly in the mirror for a second, and then, “wait I need my jacket, it’s fucking freezing.”

“Right now?”

They’d awoken at seven and had their usual morning sex, only for Woojin to jump in the shower almost immediately afterwards… which was becoming an increasing habit, Chan had realised a couple of days ago.

“Yeah, remember last night Hyunjin texted me about talking to Minho?”

Chan knits his brows. “This early, though?”

“Well I’m up now, so yeah.” Woojin pulls on his jacket.

“I just feel like you’re always gone at the moment.”

Woojin pauses in their doorway and looks at him oddly for a second. “We’ve studied together like four nights this week?”

He walks further into the kitchen and opens the fridge, raising his voice so it carries to their bedroom. “Just busy these days, things will settle down soon.”

He continues looking through the fridge, making a few notes on his phone. He’ll stop by the grocery store on his way home, Chan knows. They hadn’t had chicken for four days and he is sure Woojin can’t last much longer without it.

“I’ll be back for dinner,” Woojin says, by their doorway again, eyes downcast on his phone. Minho texted, asking him to pick up some breakfast before coming over. Woojin rolls his eyes with a laugh, then smiles quickly at Chan and walks to the front door, closing it fast to keep it from squealing annoyingly.

“Bye,” Chan says quietly. He sits in silence for a minute, and then for the third day in a row he lies down again, tugs his sheets to his chin and drifts back to sleep.

 

Felix stares at the cart in front of him, hesitant to get in. Bracing his hands on the chair arms, he glances up at the highest point of the rollercoaster, where a bunch of people scream as they begin to drop. He scrambles into his seat and blinks blankly at the seat in front of him.

A week had passed since Changbin asked him out, and Felix had not anticipated his ready agreement to land him in a theme park death trap.

“Lix?”

He turns his head just slightly, embarrassed at the obvious concern in Changbin’s eyes.

“…yep?”

“Are you afraid of heights?”

Felix squeaks. “A little.”

The ride attendant appears. “Arms up,” she says, locking down Felix’s safety bar and then Changbin’s.

“It’s not too late if you wanna get off,” Changbin says firmly. “I’ll call her back if you’re not comfortable.”

He begins to raise his arm, and Felix grabs it, pulling it downwards. “No, don’t. I’ll be fine.”

Changbin wraps his hand around Felix’s, smirking. “Okay, I’ll just hold your hand then.”

He doesn’t have time to reply to that, because the ride sets off and he’s already beginning to scream.

 

After the ride- a fun, fast few minutes to Changbin and an eternity to Felix- the two exit the ride, Changbin letting go of Felix’s hand to help the younger down from his seat and then taking it once on the ground.

Felix stumbles a little when he begins walking. “That was… hectic.”

“Was it terrible?”

“Hmm.” Felix ponders the question, remembering the section of the ride that went completely upside down that he particularly disliked, and then the first drop, and then… then just Changbin holding his hand, and Changbin telling him to open his eyes when they reached the final drop, and then the two of them laughing and screaming the entire way down. He shakes his head. “No, it wasn’t.”

Changbin smiles at the blonde boy, eyes roving over his now wind-mussed waves and the prominent freckles speckled across his face, then down to the large white puffer jacket open to reveal a bright yellow turtleneck paired with black jeans. _Kind of like a sunflower_.

His once-over makes Felix second guess (okay it was definitely more than second guessing at this point) his outfit choice. He’d woken up far too early to get ready. Changbin had texted that he would pick him up by 9:30 a.m., and Felix had found himself unable to sleep once 7:00 rolled around.

With half his closet on the floor and Felix rolling in it in despair, he had finally called out for Jisung, lying face down until his roommate sleepily came and kicked him repeatedly for waking him up.

Despite dealing out such a beating, Jisung had thrown him the jeans and turtleneck, and the jacket after peeping out the window to see the grey clouds gathering. Jisung applied a little eye-makeup and handed Felix some lip tint, but had refused to do full-face with foundation, claiming he was not going to cover Felix’s ‘charming point’.

“And roll your jean cuffs up,” Jisung had told him, mumbling as he’d focused on Felix’s eyeshadow, a stick of mascara in his mouth.

“A turtleneck and rolled cuffs? Why not just stick a sign saying ‘I am a raging bisexual’ on my back?”

Jisung laughed and then coughed when the stick slipped too far into his mouth. He pulled it out quickly and glared at it for a second. “You know what I always say about dating: just be yourself.”

“Very funny.”

 

Felix begins to fidget under Changbin’s eyes. “So… where to now?”

Changbin doesn’t reply, eyeing him intently.

“What?”

“How can you be so soft yet have such a deep voice?”

The tips of Felix’s ears begin to redden; he can feel it, and judging by Changbin’s chuckling, the older boy can definitely see it. “Shut up,” he says. He begins walking quickly in the direction of a hot dog stand, pulling Changbin along with him. “Let’s just eat or something.”

“Okay.”

Changbin’s voice is thick with unreleased laughter, and Felix is thankful he can’t see the massive smile on his own face to throw off his fake mad image. “Hmph!”

 

“I’m hereeee!”

Minho springs out of bed at the sound of Woojin’s voice, hastily throwing on sweatpants and a hoodie over his boxers. The smell of baked goods wafts through the door and he pads out of his room to find Hyunjin already sitting at their bench, watching Woojin unload a package of hot pastries, some fresh fruit and seafood salad.

Woojin begins setting the food onto plates for the three of them. “I was considering eggs but couldn’t be bothered cleaning up afterwards so here you go.”

“Thank you, hyung,” Hyunjin smiles sweetly, pushing a plate over to Minho when his roommate sits beside him.

Minho’s stomach rumbles, and he thanks Woojin and tucks into a pastry immediately. “This is great and all, but why are you over so early?”

Hyunjin suddenly picks up his plate and skips off to his room with a sneaky look at Woojin.

“Jin,” Minho calls, tone ringing with warning.

Hyunjin’s door lock clicks.

“For fuck’s sake.”

Woojin shakes his head. “There’s nothing to be afraid of, Hyunjin just thought maybe I should talk to you, given I’m friends with both you and Jisung.”

Minho’s gaze hovers over Hyunjin’s door and he briefly considers busting it down to wring the younger boy’s neck.

“Don’t even think about it,” Woojin says, a true mind reader.

Minho rolls his eyes.

“Jisung told me what he said to you.”

He watches Minho, waiting for a response, but the blonde simply shrugs and moves on to his salad.

“You have every right to be upset at him,” Woojin says softly. “He knows he shouldn’t have said it.”

“Didn’t stop him though, did it?” Minho snaps.

The sound of Hyunjin’s favourite girl group’s music peals through the door, clearly Hyunjin’s attempt to give the two some privacy.

Woojin remains quiet while Minho picks at the remaining half of his pastry, biting his lip in thought.

Something Woojin has learned about Minho over the years is that the dancer never says anything he doesn’t mean. If he speaks cuttingly, he means to offend. When giving compliments, as infrequent as they may be, they are always genuine. He’s sharp witted and clever, and sometimes prefers silence to speaking, even when he is in a good mood.

He also rarely apologises. For anything. Minho doesn’t like change, and typically doesn’t care enough to chase after others, preferring to leave things behind if they can’t keep up with him.

But Woojin is sure Jisung can keep up with him. And he is fairly certain Minho thinks the same way. At the very least, he knows Minho is intrigued by his fiery squirrel cheeked friend, which is better than nothing.

“Is there a particular reason you hate Jisung so much? Because as far as I know, the Pool Incident was more your fault than his.”

Minho frowns at his pastry accusingly, wondering why something so delicious has managed to trick him into such an unwanted conversation. He thinks about his initial meeting with Jisung, how cute the younger boy was, and how quick he’d been to put Jisung on edge by telling him point-blank not to catch feelings for him.

And then how he’d managed to embarrass himself in front of said cute boy by nearly drowning and then, to add insult to injury, had bawled in the cute boy’s arms before walking away with his tail between his legs.

Oh, and there was also that thing where he shoved the cute boy away at the club because he felt overwhelmed, which once again back-fired and ended in hostility. _Jesus, he probably thinks I’m crazy_ , Minho decides internally, grinding his teeth in annoyance.

Woojin looks at him in concern. “Be careful with your teeth.”

“Yes, mother,” Minho bites.

Woojin ignores this. “Well?”

“Well…” Minho trails off, gathering his thoughts. He bites his pastry, munching for a moment then swallowing to speak. “The pool thing was my fault,” he admits. “Which we all knew but… I don’t know. I just… hate looking stupid in front of other people. Blaming Jisung made that feeling easier and-”

“And meant you had further reason to keep him away because you can sense that there’s a possibility you could actually like him?”

Minho flushes. “What? No.”

Woojin raises a brow. “Whatever you say.”

“I like his confidence and I think he’s funny. We could be good friends if I tried.”

“Very good friends.”

Minho swipes at him. “Quiet.”

“Jisung would stop being hostile if you did,” Woojin shrugs.

More pastry munching. “But I probably won’t.”

“But you could.”

“I could.”

 

Later in the day, Hyunjin skips into the cafeteria near their dorms, thankful that the talk went well enough that Minho disappeared to go ‘shopping’ without beating his ass or yelling at Woojin once.

He orders some food and then spies Seungmin in the corner, at a table alone.

“Hey!” He drops into the chair across from the other boy, slapping his tray onto the table at the same time.

“Shit!”

Seungmin leaps up in his chair, pages fluttering around him.

“Oh my gosh,” Hyunjin cringes and tries to gather the pages back together. “I’m sorry!”

Seungmin stares at him in confusion, adjusting his glasses while blinking. He looks as if he hasn’t slept in days, if the heavy dark circles under his bloodshot eyes and the messy unkempt hair is anything to go by.

Hyunjin presses his lips together. “You’ve forgotten me, haven’t you?”

“I-”

“Because honestly if either of us has any reason to be forgetting people it would be me, given that I was drunk and I’m the dance major while you’re the super smart-”

“Hyunjin,” Seungmin interrupts. “Minho’s roommate, has extensive knowledge about dinosaurs but still chooses to be boring and love tyrannosaurs the most, gets loose after three drinks-”

“Excuse you!”

Seungmin stops mid-rant, eyes landing on the pretty boy’s pink cheeks. “I didn’t forget.”

“Okay,” Hyunjin nods, satisfied. He takes a sheet of paper and slides it toward himself.

“It’s just that project, the one your roommate is in.” Seungmin’s expression darkens. “Although at the rate they’re going I’m sure one of them is going to try to cop out again.”

“I don’t think they will.”

Seungmin pins Hyunjin with a fierce but stressed look. “I’m serious, my professor will stab me if I mess this up, it’s too much money already spent. Every space needs to be filled. I’ll- I’ll fucking tie them up if I have to.”

“Ooo daddy,” giggles Hyunjin.

Seungmin stares. “I don’t know how to respond to that.”

Hyunjin’s heart speeds up a little, worried he’s upset the other boy. “Sorry, I didn’t meant to make you uncomfortable. I say dumb shit, I’m just kinda weird, I’m so-”

“I swear to fuck if you apologise one more time-“, Seungmin ominously doesn’t finish, but instead takes the paper from Hyunjin’s grasp, packing it into his folder silently. He then slides a disc into his laptop and pats the chair beside him. “I hope you’re as interested in the Ice Age as you are in dinosaurs.”

Hyunjin laughs in relief. “Not my forte, but I’m always down for National Geographic.”

He slips nimbly under the table and pops up on the other side, surprising Seungmin but not enough to make him throw his papers like he did earlier. The other boy moves his chair closer as well as the laptop, and a happy warmth settles over Hyunjin. _He’s not even your type you dumbass_ , he thinks, eyes flickering to look at Seungmin’s side profile.

“Here,” Seungmin hands him one side of his earphones, then presses play.

_Do I even have a type?_

 

“Dammit!”

Jeongin chucks his Xbox controller across the couch, watching it hit a pillow and bounce into the corner. He’s tired of playing with random people online.

He’s tired of doing things in general because aside from occasionally assisting Seungmin in his own assignment, he barely sees his hyung these days. The elder boy is always studying late and even started leaving the dorm to study, claiming it to be far too noisy and Jeongin to be “way too distracting”.

He supposed Seungmin was right. Jeongin is by no means a hard studier. He doesn’t need to, having a questionably photographic memory. Seungmin has much longer and more extensive assignments than he, being a second year student, and Jeongin gets that… but he wishes Seungmin didn’t have to be missing for so long.

Honestly he feels that perhaps Seungmin is a bit sick of being with him all the time. Initially, Jeongin had thought that Seungmin preferred to stay in without lots of people but after he’d gone to the club last week without mentioning it to Jeongin at all, Jeongin is beginning to wonder whether Seungmin doesn’t want a tag-along with him all the time.

This would be incredibly inconvenient for Jeongin, who has always preferred to hang out with older people since being in school. He has a penchant for being babied, and on top of that is fairly selective when making friends because he is very sweet but lacks patience, and as such had not bothered to get close to anyone since moving in with Seungmin.

“This is not convenient,” he mutters aloud, crawling over the cushions to find the controller.

A knock sounds at the door.

Jeongin squints. Neither he nor Seungmin have anyone that would want to come around, right?

Another knock. “HELLO!”

And then a hushed, “oh my Jesus, don’t be so rude.”

Giving up on his search, Jeongin slides off the couch and trots over to the door, opening it barely an inch. “What.”

A golden-haired boy with skin as tanned as Jisung’s stands before him, an untrustworthy grin on his face. Jeongin likes him immediately. “Is Seungmin home?”

Jeongin shakes his head but opens the door anyway, curious. Behind the first boy is a taller, black haired boy, wearing a white cap backwards with a green t-shirt tucked into high-waisted blue jeans. Something Jeongin would wear. “I like your outfit.”

“Thanks,” the boy replies in Canadian-accented English.

“Oh my god,” Jeongin says, gaping. He looks back to the first boy. “You must be Haechan then. Seungmin said your new roommate was from Canada.”

Haechan laughs. It’s higher pitched and cheeky, exactly the kind of obnoxious Seungmin described him to be. “Yeah, this is Mark.”

“Right, right, nice to meet you guys, I’m Jeongin,” Jeongin smiles. “But Seungmin isn’t actually home right now, did you need him for anything?”

“No.” Mark shakes his head. “Haechan is just bored and prowling for trouble.”

Haechan smacks Mark’s shoulder. “He lies.”

“It’s all good with me if you wanna come in?” Jeongin offers, standing to the side of the door. “I’m bored out of my mind playing games so…”

Without any hesitance, Haechan bounds in, dragging Mark by the arm after him. He flops onto the couch. “Feels like home.”

Jeongin snorts. “Welcome.”

 

With Jisung’s one class for the day over, he heads to the campus café where Woojin asked to meet him before he goes swimming. He doesn’t like to eat early in the morning and always forgets to sneak something into class, so the very idea of food is almost making him drool.

The cold air nips at his legs and he walks faster; it isn’t raining yet, just very windy, but being the lazy type he is he put on his swimming shorts to wear all day so he can simply get in the pool straight away.

He reaches the café and goes right to their usual corner table, Woojin already waiting with a coffee for himself and a chocolate milkshake for Jisung.

Woojin sighs. “Why do you insist on wearing this even in winter?”

“Relax I have warm clothes for later,” Jisung slides off his backpack and tucks it under the table. “Stop fretting and let’s order.”

 

Halfway through their shared bowl of cold noodles, Woojin clears his throat and places his chopsticks down on the napkin. “I spoke to Minho.”

Jisung scoffs. “I hope that went better for you than it does for me.”

“Of course it did.” Woojin’s eyes crinkle up. “I’m a professional Minho wrangler. Years in the game.”

Mouthful of noodles, Jisung tries to keep himself from smiling, but it’s hard to repel Woojin’s kind eye smile. “You guys are friends so… it’s different.”

“You were the one who told me that Felix let slip from Changbin that Minho likes you.”

“What a lot of gossip.”

Woojin laughs. “Isn’t it? Well, Minho didn’t explicitly say he liked you like that, but then again, Minho doesn’t like feelings.”

“So you’re saying it’s okay for him to treat me like this?”

“No and you know it,” Woojin admonishes, taking a sip of his coffee. “Just as you also know that what you said to Minho wasn’t okay.”

Jisung flushes with guilt. “Yeah, I know.”

“The good news is, you can apologise to him, and he to you.”

“I don’t think he really wants to see me to be honest.” Jisung pushes uselessly at his noodles with his chopsticks.

“He will. God-Woojin works in mysterious ways.”

“Ah, what are you even saying.”

Woojin reaches across the table to squeeze the younger boy’s hand. “I love you both. I would be grateful if you could work it out.”

Jisung squints.

“I don’t necessarily mean as in dating. You could be perfectly good friends if the two of you can get on the same page. You’ve both acknowledged that you tend to be hot and cold. Find the middle ground.”

Jisung nods and Woojin gets up to leave, placing a bill down on the table to cover his portion of the meal. He leans down by Jisung’s ear to whisper, “but you’d be a really good looking couple.”

Jisung hisses and jumps up, swatting at the elder boy. “Don’t say such things”, he pouts, “you know my vanity is my biggest weakness.”

“You’re both dumb pretty boys,” Woojin laughs, walking away. “Be sure to meet him!”

 

“I’m going to have a heart attack.”

“What?” Hyunjin snaps away from the laptop screen urgently, patting at Seungmin’s cheek. “Why? What’s going on? Do you have a medical condition?”

Seungmin slumps in his chair, and Hyunjin follows his gaze to three people entering the cafeteria, his roommate Jeongin and two others Hyunjin doesn’t know.

“SEUNGMIN!”

One of the boys bolts over, leaping across a chair to arrive in front of them. Jeongin and the second boy follow at a more regular pace.

“Haechan,” the boy introduces himself to Hyunjin, who takes his hand hesitantly, noting that steam could almost be exiting Seungmin’s ears. Haechan appears delighted. “This is my boyfriend, Mark.”

He kisses Mark on the cheek, and Hyunjin knits his brows at the look of confusion on the taller boy’s face. Haechan looks frustrated for a split second before flashing a grin. “And how is my favourite ex?”

Seungmin rolls his eyes. “Ex-roommate, you menace.”

Hyunjin sends a silent prayer skyward.

“Same difference,” Haechan giggles. He wraps an arm around Jeongin. “I made friends with my replacement!”

“Why didn’t you tell me Haechan was funny, hyung?”

Seungmin groans. “Not you, too!”

“Well, we have dinner to attend to but I’ll visit again soon,” Haechan announces. He hugs Jeongin, leaving the red-head smiling brightly.

The two exit the cafeteria just as Chan enters, blonde hair fuzzy as if he hasn’t been up for a long time. He isn’t dressed for the weather, but then again, neither of the Australians tended to manage to do so on the regular. Felix had explained that the weather in their homeland always changed too much throughout the day to ‘dress appropriately’.

“Chan’s really hot,” Jeongin says, rather out of the blue.

Hyunjin frowns, not liking the way the younger boy is eyeing his friend’s boyfriend. He’d never been super close with Chan, but Woojin was over to see Minho often enough that they’d become quite good friends. He had a lot of respect for his hyung, knowing what kindness he was capable of. “He’s with Woojin,” he says, shortly.

Jeongin pokes his tongue out. “I don’t see a ring.”

“It’s pretty serious.”

“So were my parents. Until they weren’t.”

“He’s joking,” Seungmin says apologetically, tossing a glare at Jeongin. “This is why I don’t want you hanging out with Haechan! This is his influence!”

Not one to fight with others, especially people he hadn’t met before, Hyunjin tells himself to back down. He’s only a little comforted by Seungmin’s words, but he doesn’t like the way Jeongin’s eyes follow Chan all the way out the door.

 

Jisung arrives at the auditorium and goes straight to the change rooms to toss his bag in a locker, then tugs off his hoodie and throws it in too. Grabbing just a towel, he opens the door to the pool.

No one is in the water. “Fuck yes!”

“Fuck yes, what?”

Jisung shrieks and spins around to see Minho by the benches, wearing a towel slung low on his hips. His hair is messy in a way that makes Jisung suspect he is nervous, having seen the boy run his hands through it on other occasions for that reason.

“What are you doing?”

“Waiting for you.”

“In only a towel?” Jisung scoffs, dropping his own towel to the ground. “I thought you didn’t want to fuck anymore”

“I have shorts on”, Minho says hotly, his cheeks heating up in mixed anger and embarrassment. He glares at Jisung. “I’m trying here, okay?”

Jisung closes his eyes for three seconds, counting to calm himself down. Why his quick temper had never left him since childhood he didn’t understand, and was still quite mad about. And here he is now, losing his temper over… his temper. _I’m a mess_.

“Okay.” Jisung sighs.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry.”

They apologise at the same time, leaving an awkward few seconds before Minho clears his throat. “I’ll- I want to-”

Jisung says nothing, waiting for the older boy to speak.

“I want to apologise,” Minho begins, “for… a lot of things. Since first meeting you, even. I dragged you into something without asking if you were okay with it. I do that a lot.”

Jisung eyes Minho’s hands twisting around themselves. _So he is nervous_. “Woojin calls it your schemes.”

Minho chuckles softly. “Yes.” He continues on, “but I shouldn’t pull people like you into them.”

“People like me?”

“Good people…” He gives Jisung a onceover and looks to be rethinking his choice in words. “Or… at the very least total strangers. I get caught up doing whatever the fuck I want without thinking of others.” He shakes his head. “No, I do think. I just don’t care.”

Jisung listens, saying nothing. He’s quiet. Woojin would be shocked at how much so.

“Not only that. I’m proud and obstinate, and… needlessly competitive about nothing. I don’t even know what it is I want. It’s like I can sense someone wanting something from me and it makes me…”

“Makes you not want to let them have it?” Jisung offers. He tilts his head, a ghost of a smile on his face. “I know the feeling.”

Minho bites his lip, looking unsure of himself.

“I’m also sorry,” Jisung says, before the awkwardness can stretch too long. “For always responding with hostility. And,” he swallows, shame coursing through him once more, “for what I said at the club the other day. It was horrible. I don’t know why I said something like that. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, I deserved it.”

“No,” Jisung shakes his head emphatically. “You didn’t. Please- I would never truly wish that on someone. It was thoughtless of me, really.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” Jisung sighs again, relief washing over him. His gaze runs over Minho’s body once more, and he tries to keep himself from going into cardiac arrest at the sight of the dancer’s toned abs and strong thighs outlined underneath tight mid-thigh length blue shorts with a cute shark pattern. “So, why the shorts?”

Minho glances down in surprise, not having realised that his towel had half slipped off mid-conversation. “I- uh- I bought them earlier… I was thinking maybe you could teach me to swim.”

“Oh,” Jisung blinks.

“Only if you want to,” the dancer rushes. “I just thought… worth asking… given we’re here and all.”

“Of course. I’d love to.”

 

The water is icy to Minho’s touch and he shrieks as soon as he dips his foot in.

“You baby! Are you seriously whining with only your toes in?”

Jisung is already in the water, stretched and good to go, clearly happy just to be there.

“It’s cold,” Minho whines.

They’re on the steps, and Minho has one hand holding the rail. Thinking it best to explain what he wanted to teach the older boy before getting him in the water, he’d decided to take Minho to the ramp and steps, where Minho could slowly adjust to the water.

While that would help with his fear, it certainly wasn’t helping with temperature adjustment.

Jisung takes his other hand without thinking and Minho shrieks. “Don’t pull me in!”

“I’m not, I’m not,” Jisung assures. He locks eyes with the blonde and doesn’t look away, hoping to keep the elder focused on him, and not the water deepening around him. “Did you know my main classroom overlooks the walkway to the dance rooms?”

Minho shakes his head. “No, silly, I don’t even know what your classes are.”

“Some boyfriend,” Jisung jokes, edging backwards down the steps slowly. “Science based. I’m in the science block usually.”

“Okay, and?”

“I used to watch you walking to and from class with the other dancers,” he confesses.

Minho gapes slightly. His eyes are on Jisung, and he hasn’t noticed that he’s naturally pushing his arms outwards, even with his feet still on the steps. “You already knew me?”

“I mean everyone does,” Jisung shrugs, pretending not to see Minho’s reddened cheeks at the mention of the infamous gossip about him. “But I just saw you half dancing up the steps one day in the sun and you looked really happy and I guess I thought you were kind of beautiful, so I started looking for you whenever the dancers went by.”

Suddenly they’re waist deep in water, and Minho is smiling softly at him in a way Jisung has never seen before.

“Is that creepy?”

“Depends,” Minho giggles- _giggles_ , hell Jisung might cry. “If you were being creepy while doing the watching…”

Jisung laughs. “I don’t think so. At least, I hope not.”

“Me too-,” he freezes, looking down, clearly stunned at how far into the water he is. He begins splashing frantically. “Ji-Jis-Sungie-”

“You’re okay, you’re okay!” Jisung moves his hand back to the edge of the pool. “Do you trust me?”

Minho eyes him suspiciously. “I think so.”

“Then let’s start your first lesson.”

 

Two hours fly by, Minho being a fast learner and picking up the mechanics of the movements very quickly. He flailed around a couple of times, losing faith in himself every so often or looking down to the pool floor and freaking himself out at other times.

Overall, Jisung is proud of himself for helping Minho- _dang I sure am a great swim coach_ \- but he is far more proud of Minho’s incredible progress and determination. He has never seen the older boy dance, but knows he ranks at the top of classes and showcases, and assumes his efforts must play a large part in that.

He glances at his watch. Not quite closing time, but almost. “Hey, we should probably go.”

They’re in the middle of the pool now, Minho swimming in circles in an area he can still stand in. Jisung can’t, to Minho’s amusement, so he’s just treading water a few paces nearby.

Minho stops and smiles, eyes sparkly. He moves closer to Jisung.

 _God, he’s so fucking pretty._ Jisung’s chest aches a little.

“I’ll race you.”

Jisung scoffs. “That’s not even a competition!”

“Meaning I get a head start,” Minho snorts, shoving Jisung underwater and begins haphazardly swimming somewhere between doggy paddling and freestyle to the edge of the pool.

Jisung splutters for a second and then follows, easily surpassing him.

“Hey!”

Jisung crawls out and holds out his hand to Minho, who takes it, then pulls him back in. He hastily climbs out himself, looking down at the younger boy.

“I win,” Minho grins.

Jisung just looks up at him, a little overwhelmed at the sight of the dancer shirtless and dripping and most of all _smiling_ at him. “I guess you do. Just this time.”

“We’ll see about that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> from the way this chapter ends i feel like people might think that's the ending but nooo it isn't i just rly needed to give minsung a break and let them get along for a minute hfhgdshg
> 
> there brief markchan appearance is bc im planning a spinoff for nct, not sure when but ive wanted to do it since i started this fic so! 💓  
> hope you liked it, i'll have another update sooner than the last <333


	6. blowing hot and cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> woojin spiralling jeongin wildin and the others are just being cute or trying their best

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hihihihi my loves im so sorry for how late this is!! i just started university again and then went to ateez so i just couldnt find the time for an update until now, but i'll get back on track!

There’s almost nothing better to starting off a cold morning with a hot chocolate in Jisung’s book, so when he saunters into the library still shivering from the eight a.m. air, the sight of Minho sitting between the shelves at the end of the library with two takeaway cups beside him is more than enough to put him in a brilliant mood.

He shrugs his long padding off as he makes his way to the dancer, throwing it over one arm while unwinding his scarf with the other. The past couple of weeks he’s spent so much time with Minho, both in and out of the pool, and he doesn’t know what to make of it.

Despite his own unwitting promise to himself to be no more than a friend to Minho, Jisung finds that underneath it all he can’t fight his attraction to the older boy. Every attempt to help him whilst swimming turns to _oh my god he’s shirtless_ regardless of the fact that of course Minho is shirtless, they’re in a pool, or the realisation that any little thing the dancer did would have his heart thumping like crazy, even if he didn’t realise it until after a few seconds passed.

Last week the two were walking out of the gym and Minho slipped on the stairs, and Jisung is certain he’s never been so lightning quick to save someone other than himself, and the dancer’s shock combined with the softly embarrassed smile had given Jisung the life support he needed to get through the biology quiz he had the next morning.

Just yesterday Minho had called Jisung back to him from across the foyer. Jisung had skipped back without hesitation, then began furiously blushing when Minho took his own scarf from around his neck and wrapped it carefully round Jisung’s, leaning into whisper “Seungmin is watching.”

It didn’t matter that Minho had done it for show apparently, because Jisung still thought about it the whole way home, and all through dinner, and until he fell asleep.

“Good morning!”

Minho doesn’t look up. “It’s 8 o’clock what are you so happy about.”

Jisung thinks he’s in love.

“Nothing, nothing,” he says, sitting beside the dancer. Minho still has his coat on, and Jisung wonders whether he’s actually cold or if he just knows he looks outrageously handsome in it. Probably the latter. “I thought your class didn’t start till 9:30?”

“It doesn’t.” Minho sighs and holds out his notebook. “I have a quiz for one of my electives today, but I keep forgetting the grammar rules.”

“Oh, I see. I’m probably worse with grammar than you.”

“More like definitely.”

Jisung flushes. Grammar and writing were always sore points in school for him. He wasn’t stupid by any means- not that all his teachers understood that. Having ADHD made it difficult for him to study until he finally got scripted medication for it in late high school, but by then he’d already been written off by most teachers as nothing more than a class clown. Jisung supposed he still was. He enjoyed having fun and was prone to wasting time whether he took his medication or not, but his passion for scientific subjects meant his science teacher encouraged him to continue past school graduation to go to university.

He’d always loved facts. Things he could read and remember, things that usually wouldn’t change. Maths was good too. Creative writing or grammar rules with exceptions however, were not something Jisung could get around.

Minho notices Jisung’s discomfort and his brows knit immediately. “I didn’t mean it like that,” he says sincerely, placing his notebook beside him. “I’m just joking, I have no idea how your grammar is.”

Jisung laughs. “It’s pretty shit.”

The dancer hands him the second cup, and he takes a long sip of hot chocolate, closing his eyes happily as the liquid slides down his throat and warms him up.

“Well, I’m absolutely horrendous at all science and maths,” Minho offers.

“We’re always opposites it seems.”

Minho shrugs. “That’s not so bad.”

They spend the rest of the half hour before Jisung’s class in silence, poring over their own notes. When it’s time for class Jisung gets up to go alone, but Minho begins packing up his own gear.

“I need a break,” Minho says nonchalantly, hefting his black cross body bag over his shoulder. He sets off toward the elevator, and Jisung can’t stop the giant smile spreading over his face as he follows.

 

Students file past Jeongin as soon as class ends, some excited to eat and rest, others complaining to each other while rushing to their next classes.

Jeongin sits alone, politely nodding and smiling to those who say goodbye to him. He doesn’t remember any of their names, and hasn’t tried to. _They seem nice_ , he thinks regretfully, watching them jostle each other playfully out the door. _But it’s too late now_.

He packs up his own books and slips them into his little blue backpack, tugging it onto his shoulders as he leaves the classroom.

The halls are noisy and crowded, but he manages to successfully weave through the students and down two floors to where he knows Seungmin will be finishing up. His roommate is always last to leave, but unlike Jeongin’s after-class lamenting, the elder boy is always late due to wanting to complete as much of his work as he can.

As usual, Seungmin exits his classroom just as Jeongin arrives.

“Hey!”

Seungmin blinks. “Hello, Jeongin.”

Jeongin squints as his roommate looks about distractedly. “Why do you seem so surprised when I always come to you after class?”

He follows Seungmin’s gaze to where Hyunjin stands at the end of the hall, chatting to some classmates. _Ah, he’s waiting for Seungmin_ , Jeongin realises. Hyunjin must feel their stare, because he glances up and smiles, scrunching his nose up cutely at Seungmin.

Jeongin glares in disgust. “So, are we gonna grab lunch or what?”

“Oh,” Seungmin shakes his head. “I’m actually getting it with Hyunjin. You can c-”

“No thanks,” Jeongin interrupts. He claps Seungmin’s shoulder. “You only have the hour before your next class free. Let’s go out for dinner.”

“I probably won’t be back for dinner.”

Jeongin’s brows knit. “Hyung.”

Perhaps it’s pitiful at this point. He doesn’t think he cares.

Seungmin pays attention to Jeongin’s tone, somewhere between sharp and disappointed. He sighs. “I just have a lot on right now, kid.”

The red-haired boy visibly stiffens at the nickname, then smooths his features quickly. “Don’t wait up for me either,” he says coolly, “I forgot I also have plans.”

 

Jeongin had no plans.

Not that Seungmin needed to know that. Jeongin doesn’t think it would make a difference anyway.

He huffs, bored and annoyed. Jeongin feels he is always that way these days: useless, alone, cranky. His happiness stems from being busy and social. Nothing makes him happier than entertaining others, and Jeongin can sense that if he doesn’t occupy himself with something soon he might go nuts.

“ARGH!” He falls into a squat, then angrily grabs at his shoelaces until they come undone. “Fuck!”

“Are you okay?”

Jeongin glances up in surprise.

Chan stands in front of him, smiling confusedly down at the younger boy. He looks tired but still handsome, blonde hair fried yet fluffy in a way Jeongin finds charming. Maybe his fashion today- a grey jumper and pants Jeongin suspects are pyjamas- isn’t all that much better than it was the last time Jeongin saw him, but just the same he finds it endearing.

He pouts and shakes his head. “No, I’m not okay.”

“No?” Chan slides his bag off his shoulder and crouches down beside him. “What can be so wrong that you need to attack your nice shoes like that?”

He’s teasing, Jeongin realises. He blows air up to his fringe, letting it float and then settle back just above his eyes. “They are nice.”

“Mhmm.” Then Chan shifts to sit in front of him, beginning to tie the shoelaces back up. “You should take care of them.”

“I guess.” A light goes off in Jeongin’s brain. “Channie-hyung, are you busy now?”

“Busy?” Chan finishes the laces and rocks back onto his heels. He purses his lips, considering. “I don’t think I am. I only had my eight o’clock lecture.”

“Eight? I was complaining for my ten thirty class.”

Chan blinks, then laughs.

Jeongin growls. “What? What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Chan says hastily, shoulders still shaking. He gets to his feet and extends a hand to the younger boy. “You’ve made such an effort to get up early,” he says, voice mock serious, “so let’s go out.”

Jeongin bounces up eagerly, energy renewed. “Out? Out where?”

“I don’t know,” Chan chuckles and sets off down the hall, Jeongin hot on his heels. “Why don’t you pick?”

“Well, there’s many things I want to do,” Jeongin says seriously. He counts on his fingers, “paintballing, cinema, arcade, laser tag-“

Chan laughs again. “What a list!”

They exit the building together and head towards the train station. It’s cool outside, but the sky is bright blue, and the sun is warm where it shines down on them.

Jeongin tilts his face to the sky, smiling brightly even as the cold wind hits his face. “I don’t have anyone to do these things with. It isn’t fun alone, you know.”

“I know,” Chan hums, leading them onto the platforms. He gestures up at the signs. “Platform 1 leaves in two minutes, Platform 2 leaves in four. You choose.”

Jeongin’s eyes light up and he turns his attention to the board. Suddenly he realises he doesn’t particularly care where he’s going, as long as he has company and something to hold his interest. “One minute now,” he says, grabbing Chan’s hand and pulling him to the escalator. “Let’s go quickly!”

 

“Class is dismissed!”

The dancers groan and collapse to the floor, some rolling over to continue stretching while others crawl towards their friends to discuss plans to go out.

Minho settles into his routine of post-class stretches, slipping carefully into a split. He ignores Hyunjin sliding toward him, his roommate flat on his stomach, mimicking something reminiscent of a struggling commando crawl or perhaps a terrible surfer.

“So I was thinking…”

“That’s a start,” is Minho’s snide reply, muffled from where his arms stretch past his head to touch his toes.

Hyunjin rolls over and props himself onto his side. “What do you say to going to the cinema with me and Seungmin later?”

“That sounds awful,” Minho says, a perplexed expression stricken over his face. He goes down into a seated v stretch. “In what world do I seem like a person who would enjoy third-wheeling?”

“We’re not dating!” Hyunjin says shrilly.

“Well, I don’t want to be your wingman either.”

Hyunjin gasps. “We’re just friends!”

Minho stares at the younger boy flatly, trying to assess whether he believes his roommate oblivious or in denial. “Fine.” He rises to his feet. “I can’t go out tonight anyway, I’m going to go home and watch a drama and then sleep early.”

Footsteps patter after him as Hyunjin pitifully follows him to retrieve their bags at the back of the room.

“You’re so boring,” Hyunjin whines, to which Minho only shrugs.

They make their way through the crowded hall slowly as dancers from the other studios file out. The two are content not to rush, both of them done with classes for the day.

As they step outside Hyunjin taps Minho on the shoulder. “Look!”

Jisung and Seungmin peer down from the window of their classroom, Seungmin seated and glasses slightly askew, clearly hard at work. Jisung is slouched along the windowsill, his upper body half out the window as he waves down at them with one hand and pushes his windblown wavy hair out of his eyes with the other, looking rather like an unconstrained puppy.

“Ah.” Minho makes a fuss of sighing exaggeratedly. “I told him not to look for me. Can’t he even focus on his work?”

Hyunjin watches amusedly as the older boy gestures rapidly for Jisung to look away.

“How many times do you think he’s been yelled at to get down from there?” Hyunjin asks, just as Jisung’s eyes dart to the front of his classroom and he begins climbing down with a sheepish expression on his face, likely the result of an angry professor.

“Too many,” Minho rolls his eyes as Jisung presses his cheek against the window while clawing at the pane, miming escape. “Can he be any more ridiculous?”

Hyunjin side eyes him. “You sound almost fond.”

“Now _you’re_ being ridiculous.”

Jisung appears to have Seungmin in a headlock now, who adjusts his glasses while staring grumpily out the window. He smiles a little at Hyunjin before attempting to reach his laptop keys once more.

“Haven’t you been a little suspicious of those two?” Hyunjin asks. “You straight up lied to Seungmin’s face about dating Jisung but they seem to be quite close?”

“Just class friends I’m sure,” Minho replies absently, still shaking his head and smiling up at Jisung’s antics. “Seungmin’s so Type A there’s no way he’d let us stay in his assignment if we weren’t really together.”

“You’re not really together.”

Minho frowns, facing his roommate. “You know what I mean.” He waves at Jisung one last time before setting off toward the dorms. “We’d never _actually_ date.”

“No, of course not.”

 

Woojin’s final class of the day ends thirty minutes early. His professor has the tendency to let them go free earlier than scheduled, and for Woojin it couldn’t have come at a more welcome time.

He shuffles into an elevator- empty, as it tended to be this late, after six p.m.- and rests his head against the cool silver wall, exhaling heavily. His stomach growls and he realises he hasn’t eaten since six in the morning.

Woojin laughs bitterly under his breath. For all the fuss he makes about his friends not taking care of themselves, he really could at least practice what he preaches.

The doors ping open and he crosses through the mostly empty atrium to the cafeteria, hoping to grab a bottle of water so he doesn’t drop dead before reaching Jisung and Felix’s place for dinner.

There’s only a few people inside, the space relatively quiet, other than a high peal of laughter from the back corner… and a lower, familiar chuckle following after.

Woojin spins around to see Jeongin leaning over a table. His fingers are wrapped around a small pink bottle of strawberry milk and the cap he wears backwards is slightly tilted to the left. He’s grinning widely, eyes disappearing as he does so. Chan’s curling blonde hair and shoulders shaking with laughter is all Woojin can see of him, but it’s enough that it brings a sharp pain to his chest.

He pulls out his phone and opens his messages to Chan and texts.

_KWJ: still coming to dinner tonight?_

He watches as Chan pulls out his phone. Jeongin rests his chin in his hands, and Woojin can’t hear but he’s sure the younger boy is asking Chan what’s going on. Jeongin leans back with a smile, clearly satisfied with the answer, and Woojin’s phone buzzes.

_BC: can’t make it tonight, tell Felix I’ll make it up to him._

Woojin breathes in sharply. He angrily types in _tell him yourself_ but decides against it, backspacing quickly. He tries to put his phone back in his pocket but ends up losing his grip on both his phone and water bottle, and his hand darts out to catch his phone, leaving his water to crash to the ground.

It isn’t as noisy as he feared, but when Woojin stands up after retrieving he feels a pair of eyes on him. Jeongin is looking at him, but he can’t read the red-head’s expression. He breaks eye contact first, pocketing the bottle and heading outside, grateful to have the cold wind stinging at his eyes more than the tears beginning to form.

 

The atmosphere is bright and excitable at Jisung and Felix’s apartment when Woojin arrives, and the knowing look Felix gives him while ushering him inside is enough for Woojin to know the boys won’t badger him for an explanation on where Chan is. Were he more paranoid Woojin would wonder if Chan had already contacted them, but the boys’ easy-going attitudes probably just meant they were now used to the elder Australian being unavailable.

Although they likely assumed it was for homework, not hanging out with someone they only knew through Jisung's classmate.

Woojin fights the frown of his face as he sits down at the table, the scent of beef bulgogi and japchae wafting up to him. He smiles gratefully when Jisung pushes the side dishes closer to him, urging him to eat.

“Changbin hyung is here,” Jisung wriggles his brows cheekily, enjoying the way Felix’s cheeks heat up.

Changbin stands up from behind the bench, holding a stack of plates. “Someone had to cook,” he says playfully. “Jisung is quite terrible.”

Woojin laughs as Jisung slumps in his chair, arms crossed. “He does burn everything.”

“I just have a short attention span,” Jisung pouts.

Changbin sets the plates out and takes a seat beside Felix, unconcerned by any of the group’s nonsense, and starts heaping food onto a plate that he sets down in front of Felix. The younger boy smiles at him happily while Jisung plays up again, and Woojin feels both warm and cold at the same time, wishing there was something he could do to stop the creeping sadness coming over him.

 

“LEE MINHO!”

The door bursts open and Minho screams and leaps up in fright, mug of freshly coffee spilling all over his hands and grey sweatpants.

“Fuck!” He shrieks in pain. “God, WHY-”

Hyunjin skips across the carpet to the lounge room, perching on the edge just out of Minho’s reach as well as the wet patches now soaked into the couch. He beams down at the elder boy. “Guess what.”

Minho clears his throat with a tight smile on his face, clenching and unclenching his hands over his sopping pants. “Well,” he sucks in a breath sharply, “I’m still debating whether I’m more mad about the fact that I _just sat down with this_ , the stain you have caused or the pain I just endured because of your nonsense so I’ll humour you this far. What?”

“Uhhh,” Hyunjin shifts further off the couch, faintly alarmed by the elder’s threats. “We have a surprise for you!”

“Better not be as wonderful as the last,” Minho deadpans, holding his mug limply to display the remaining contents.

“It’s much better!”

Seungmin enters the room before Minho has the chance to argue. He cradles something to his chest, closes the door with his foot, then crosses the room while smiling down at his chest.

Minho pauses the TV, sensing some bullshit.

“Seung-“

“Quiet down,” Seungmin hisses. He lifts a small, furry thing up and passes it to Minho, waiting for him to take it.

“What is this?”

Hyunjin giggles beside him. “Just take him.”

“Him?” Minho juggles the thing handed to him. “What-”

Beady black eyes stare up at him, unblinking, tiny pink nose twitching and sniffing Minho’s hands. The creature is tiny in his grasp, and he feels a smile creeping onto his face just watching it. “It looks like Jisung.”

The younger boys glance at each other. Hyunjin slips onto the couch beside him, and Seungmin stands next to him.

“He does, doesn’t he?” Hyunjin’s eyes twinkle. “He looks exactly like Hamtaro.”

“More like Hantaro,” Minho laughs.

The other boys watch him quietly, and Minho narrows his gaze, eyeing the orangey ball of fluff suspiciously. “This is yours, Seungmin?”

“Uh,” is all Seungmin says.

“Such eloquence,” Minho rolls his eyes, still patting the hamster. “So?”

Hyunjin coughs. “I’m just gonna rip it off like a bandaid okay? Okay-”

“Wait what-”

“So anyways, Seungmin and I were walking through the cafeteria after we went to the cinema and then Somi ran up to us and asked us to come with her for this urgent matter and so we did and we got to the hall of their dorms and then she went into her room and came back with this hamster and said someone had to take it because they couldn’t keep them all and I was like yeah of course I’ll give it to Minho and then we rushed back here and uh yeah, here we are today.”

Minho pounces on his words instantly. “’Give it to Minho’?”

Hyunjin nods nervously.

“Why me?”

“Well, you know, you’re an only child and I read that taking care of pets is really beneficial for-”

“Hyunjin? I have. Three. Cats. At home.” Minho glares at his roommate and thrusts the hamster into Seungmin’s hands. “You know that. And since when did you become a therapist, huh?”

Hyunjin spreads his hands helplessly, already getting off the couch. He begins walking backwards to the door while gesturing to Seungmin to follow. “No need to get snappy,” he says in a sing-song tone, “I also read that pets help with anger management.”

Seungmin places the hamster back in Minho’s hands, stopping him from chasing after Hyunjin. He grins. “Sorry man.”

“For fuck’s sake.”

They disappear together, leaving Minho settled grumpily on the couch, the hamster now crawling up to nestle on his chest.

“Ah, fuck it.”

He reaches for the remote and unpauses his show. “No, Han, no,” Minho says sternly, picking up the hamster from where it tries to bury itself into his neck. He holds it close to his face and kisses its nose, then places it back on his chest.

He barely makes it through half an episode before the door swings open again.

“Hyunjin, I will beat-”

Woojin steps inside, tentatively, a duffel bag on his shoulder. His usually dark skin seems lacklustre; his eye bags are dark and puffy.

“Woojin,” Minho blinks in surprise. He sits up straight. “Are you okay?”

The elder shuffles over to him and drops his bag down on the floor. He looks past Minho, rather than at him, blinking frantically in that way that stops tears leaking out. When he speaks, his voice is hoarse. “Mind if I crash here?”

“Sure.” Minho doesn’t ask for how long or what’s wrong, just decides to let his friend talk to him on his own time.

“Thanks,” Woojin smiles a little and flops down onto the couch beside him. He looks over at Minho, seeing the hamster for the first time. “Who’s this?”

Minho smiles fondly at the hamster and passes it to Woojin, chuckling as the elder begins cooing at the fluffy creature. “Han… Hantaro,” he corrects.

Woojin smirks. “Han?”

“No, Han _taro_!” Minho shakes his head wildly, feeling heat rushing to his cheeks. “Hantaro, Hantaro, Hantaro!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ummm thanks for reading like always hehe


	7. something wicked this way comes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> minho's past is catching up with him and chan and jeongin start being real with themselves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im back ;; sorry this update is late i've just had a lot of assignments due the last two weeks 
> 
> not entirely happy w my writing here but i just want to get this up ;;;

Craving beef all day led Felix to organise tonight’s dinner of barbecue. Jisung and Woojin were there of course, but lately the invitation had been extended to Minho and Hyunjin too. Sometimes Changbin came, when he wasn’t eating with his parents, and Seungmin came out once last week for sushi.

Chan hadn’t come once, but nobody mentioned it. Woojin’s silence on the matter was enough.

The boys are loud and boisterous as they eat through their first round of beef and pork strips, and Woojin has to hiss more than once at Jisung and Felix to “stop using the fucking lettuce as ammunition, we are in _public_.”

Just as the waiter comes over to change the grill for the second round, Minho’s phone buzzes on the table.

He picks it up and reads the text, then stands up, suddenly visibly shaken. “I have to go,” Minho says, glancing out the window. He looks at Woojin. “I’ll transfer you the money for this.”

He grabs his phone and coat from the back of his chair, then hurriedly leaves the table without another word.

The boys watch him reach the door and pause, noting the heavy rain outside. Minho puts his coat on and tugs the hood over his head, bows to the waitress at the door and stands at the edge of the road.

“You don’t think it’s his family do you?” Felix asks, concerned.

Hyunjin shakes his head. “He would’ve just said something. I don’t-”

Lights flash outside, the front lights of a car, reflecting in the window and in the wet street. The car stops and Minho walks over to it, expression blank. The driver of the car leans over to open the door, and while Minho stiffly climbs in, Jisung finds himself looking into the eyes of the driver, who smiles… or bares his teeth. He can’t tell.

The door slams shut, and the car takes off down the street, definitely faster than the speed limit.

The boys sit in stunned confusion for a moment.

“Maybe he had a date he didn’t want to tell us about,” Jisung offers weakly, deciding to break the silence.

Woojin scrunches up his nose. “Did that look like romantic to you?”

It didn’t, not at all, but Jisung didn’t know what to make of it. “Not romantic,” he concedes. “I do think they know each other, though? The way the guy got the door for him… Minho expected him to do it.”

Felix nods. “They definitely seem familiar with each other.”

Woojin claps his hands together. “Don’t let the food go cold,” he scolds, and begins passing beef and side dishes around the table.

“You know,” Hyunjin mumbles through a mouthful of seaweed, “Minho mentioned an ex when he first moved in with me. Just once. But I don’t know what he looks like.”

Felix, Woojin and Hyunjin all turn to Jisung, expectant.

“What?” Jisung shakes his head. “We’re not dating or anything. As long as we go along with the pretence for Seungmin’s assignment it doesn’t matter.”

“If you’re sure,” Felix says, clearly not content with Jisung’s reply.

Hyunjin doesn’t appear to be appeased either, but he says nothing. Woojin simply heaps more beef onto Jisung’s plate.

Jisung savours the meat as he thinks to himself, the others beginning to talk about other things. If that boy is Minho’s ex, and perhaps they are getting back together, Jisung doesn’t want to make Minho feel like he has to sneak around. Aside from making sure not to sabotage Seungmin’s project, Jisung reasons, there is no reason why Minho can’t date.

He nods to himself. _If Minho is happy, I’m happy._

                                                                                                                                                                          

Chan hadn’t expected to slow down once the past few weeks with Jeongin, and he’d been right in thinking so. Together, the two had crossed off everything on Jeongin’s bucket list, and then some. With every sports game, park adventure and cinema trip, the bond between them had become stronger. They were happy, excited always.

Chan shuffles around in his pocket for his wallet, then hands the stall lady the money for tickets for their next ride. They’d come to a new theme park today, one neither of them had been to before. Jeongin is off getting them food, so Chan takes the tickets and walks back to the food stalls.

As he passes the Ferris wheel, a boy with the same build and hair as Woojin walks past him in a hurry. Chan swivels around, blinking.

“Woojin-”

The boy turns around, but not for Chan- rather, for the girl who rushes into his arms, a matching pair of pink bunny ears atop her head. Now with the boy facing him, Chan can see this boy’s face is thinner and too narrow to be Woojin’s, and although his eyes are alight as he smiles down at his girlfriend, it isn’t the same warmth of Woojin’s gaze.

Chan watches the two skip off together, hand in hand. He realises he can’t even remember the last time he and Woojin went to a theme park together… or anywhere alone that wasn’t a simple car trip to work or university.

How had he let things get so far out of hand? Where did it all go?

Domestic, storybook, cliché, even _boring_ : these were the words constantly used to describe Woojin and Chan together since they first began to date. Back when boring meant comfortable, uncomplicated, effortlessly in love, not monotonous and tired. He misses _that_ boring.

He opens the photos on his phone. After scrolling back through four months’ worth of pictures, he finds a photo of Woojin on a swing, the sun setting behind him. Woojin’s eyes are closed, his lips turned up in a wide, soft smile, his brown curls are set ablaze in the light; Chan remembers the first time he saw that smile and knew not even the sun could compete with Woojin.

 _Not one more_ , Chan tells himself, watching the clouds give way to the sun behind them. _I won’t let another month of sunsets pass without him._

 

Jeongin stands in front of the candy floss stall, eyes on the older boy he’s come with. At first he couldn’t tell why Chan had turned around- wondered if he’d dropped a ticket or something- and he’d called out impatiently to him to hurry up. But the second he saw the boy Chan was looking at he knew what was going on.

Chan misses Woojin.

Of course he did. Jeongin doesn’t really know Woojin, but he knows everyone loves the brown-haired boy. He knows that if he knew Woojin, he would too.

His heart plummets.

He doesn’t want to hurt anyone. That’s not who Jeongin is. He’s impatient and impulsive, but he’s also caring and kind.

_I’m just so tired of being a second thought._

Jeongin’s lower lip wobbles, and he balances the drinks and boxes of food in his arms as he hastily stuffs a handful of fries in his mouth, hoping to somehow stop it.

_Happy thoughts, happy thoughts, happy thoughts._

It doesn’t work. His chest starts to stutter from the stifling of his own sobs, and he quickly turns from where Chan is to sit down at a table, only to walk straight into someone else.

“I’m so sorry!”

The boy in front of him shakes his head. “It’s nothing. Are you okay?”

Jeongin knits his brows, then registers the wetness on his cheeks. He quickly sets down the food and drinks on the table next to him. “I’m fine, yes, thank you.”

“Jeongin!”

Hearing Chan pushes Jeongin to pull himself together, not wanting to make the older boy upset or uncomfortable. He pats the area around his eyes and swipes his eyelashes for any stray tears. “Is my nose red?”

The boy blinks, surprised by the question. “N-no, it isn’t.”

Jeongin exhales with relief.

“Is that guy making you upset?”

“What?” Jeongin stares in confusion and then realises the boy means Chan. He almost laughs. “Oh, no. It’s just… all in my head.”

The boy nods, an expression of sad understanding on his face. “Take care of yourself.”

Jeongin watches him go until Chan reaches the table. He smiles when Chan’s dimples are on show for him, and passes the older boy his portion of the fries and a drink.

“Someone you know?” Chan asks, jerking his head in the direction the stranger left.

“Nah, just bumped into him.”

They finish off their food quickly, and then Chan pulls out the tickets for yet another violently spinning ride that Jeongin loves. “This will be exciting,” he grins, wrapping his arm round Jeongin’s shoulders.

Jeongin smiles back, but he replays the word in his mind.

 _Exciting_.

Excitement isn’t contentment. It can’t last forever.

He wonders how long he has left.

 

Since dinner last week, every time Jisung has spotted Minho around campus, the older boy has appeared to look increasingly more irritable, and Hyunjin tells him he’s just as snappy at their apartment. By Friday, Jisung realises he has only seen Minho four times the entire week.

And Minho hadn’t spoken to him once.

Seungmin had begun bringing in couples to answer the first round of questions for his assignment in the past week, and today Minho and Jisung were included in the list.

On the way over, Jisung figured he’d be able to ask Minho what’s going on before they go inside, but Minho shows up and barges straight in, calling over his shoulder, “let’s get this over with.”

Jisung shrugs and follows him in, greeting Seungmin as he sits down beside his cranky blonde fake boyfriend.

Seungmin smiles knowingly at Jisung when Minho is texting and hands them two sheets, then walks off to hand them out to the other couples.

 

As he’s finishing up with his answers, Jisung feels Minho’s eyes burning into him.

“Don’t you know anything?”

In the silent room, Minho’s sharp question may as well be a yell.

Jisung blinks, realising that Minho is looking over his shoulder at his answers. He looks at Minho’s answer for one of the first, more basic questions: ‘what was your partner wearing the first time you saw them?’

In Minho’s elegant handwriting the answer is, ‘black jeans, a black hoodie and silver necklaces’.

Jisung looks at his own messy scrawl. ‘I can’t remember’. The other answers are not much better- or entirely different to Minho’s. He swallows. “That looks bad but-”

“But what? Are we even together?”

The other couples in the room look up at the noise, obviously wondering what drama is going on. Seungmin smiles awkwardly and waves them back to their tasks.

Jisung makes eye contact with Seungmin, mouthing ‘sorry’. Aloud he says to Minho, “I’m sorry I’m so forgetful.”

“Nobody wants a boyfriend who can’t even remember the littlest things.” Minho slaps down his paper. “I’m done here.”

“Thank you.” Seungmin takes the paper from him. “We can finish things up here and do the rest next week.”

Minho scoffs. “I doubt things will be any different then.”

He picks up his bag and stalks outside, leaving Jisung to sigh after him.

“I’m sorry,” Seungmin says. “I thought ending it would clear the tension. I guess I just made it worse.”

Jisung shakes his head. “Nah,” he smiles at Seungmin, not wanting the other boy to feel bad. “Sometimes he just gets moody. It’ll be fine!”

He throws his backpack over his shoulders and runs to the carpark, expecting to find Minho alone. Instead, he sees the blonde standing beside the same car that showed up to interrupt them at dinner when Minho started to act strangely.

Jisung recognises the driver, but now in the daylight he can see the boy would probably be better described as a man, and he towers over Minho. Minho has his back to Jisung, so Jisung can’t see much beyond Minho’s wide hand gestures and head shakes.

The man passes him something- a letter maybe, Jisung thinks- and then gets back in his car and drives off, speeding again. Minho stuffs it inside his jacket and walks back to where Jisung stands, head down.

“Who’s the guy?”

Too late, Jisung realises the tears welled up in Minho’s eyes.

“Why are you always so flippant?” Minho snaps, eyes lit with fury. “Read the room for once!”

“Minho-”

“No, seriously. Grow up. You couldn’t even remember the most basic things,” Minho spits, shaking Jisung’s arm off him. I just want to be alone right now, okay?”

Jisung watches him go, a cold feeling washing over him. He glances down at his arms and wonders whether the goose bumps are from the freezing wind or Minho’s icy words.

 

“Okay.”

 

 

Minho lies in his bed, eyes open but seeing nothing in the pitch black of his room. He’s lain here for hours now, trying to fall asleep, but unable to. Hantaro is curled up, asleep on his chest like always, and every so often Minho presses a kiss to the hamster's soft tiny head. 

Hyunjin came home ages ago, and Minho is glad the younger boy knows him well enough not to come in to check on him.

Instead, he sent a simple text telling Minho to come to his room if he needed anything. Minho wishes he kept better control over his temper. Hyunjin is always so good to him, and Minho hadn’t been peaceful towards him by any means lately. He had received similar texts from Felix and Woojin, and just now, _‘sorry’_ from Jisung.

Minho curls his hands angrily into his sheets, tears pricking at his eyes. ‘ _You have nothing to be sorry for’_ , he types out.

He doesn’t send it.

The tossing and turning continues until just before midnight, when his phone buzzes on the bedside table. Minho snatches it quickly, hoping that maybe it’s Jisung again, that maybe he accidentally did press send earlier.

 

_[Unknown number]: I just want to be with you again._

“Fuck.”

He puts the phone down, only for it to buzz a second later.

_[Unknown number]: Just one date. Give me a chance to make things up to you._

_[LMH]: I don’t know if that’s a good idea._

_[Unknown number]: One date. That’s all I’m asking. I came all this way… you owe me that much._

Minho stares down at his phone. Even with the brightness turned all the way down, it hurts his eyes in the darkness of his room.

He exhales deeply, then taps out a reply, fingers hovering over the ‘send’ button.

 

_[LMH]: Okay._


	8. don't tell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> jisung gets a new roommate, minho's fate seems out of his control, jeongin makes a confession

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi im back :)) again w the assignments hhhhh but here u go!

While Woojin had originally planned to stay with Hyunjin and Minho during this weird… phase? Rough patch? Whatever it is… with Chan, after four days of sleeping on their couch, Minho’s mysterious man had shown up and thrown his plans out of whack. Deciding it to be too awkward as Minho began to draw further away from them, Woojin had asked if Jisung and Felix wouldn’t mind taking him in.

Luckily for Woojin’s poor muscles- his body is far too big to sleep on their small couch for long and he cramps easily- Changbin had been at dinner with them when he asked. To Felix’s delight and embarrassment, Changbin proposed that the young Australian stay with him so that Woojin could have a bed. Felix’s blush was enough to confirm the decision.

Now Woojin sits at their kitchen table, drinking tea and eating some rice meant to resemble some meal between breakfast and lunch. It’s not quite eleven yet, and he and Jisung are still in their pyjamas while Hyunjin is dressed and ready to go, shovelling his rice down as he speaks.

“Minho literally looks like he’s on autopilot 24/7,” Hyunjin says, palms spread helplessly. “I’ve given up trying to meet with him at all. We haven’t eaten together in more than two weeks and the only way I know he’s home at all is because the front door creaks. I should probably oil it.”

“But he _does_ come home?” Woojin prods, leaning forward curiously.

Hyunjin nods. “Yeah, every night. I’ve stopped trying to talk to him, though.”

“That’s odd.”

“Even in class we just dance and then leave. It’s boring.”

“Jisung, have you spoken to him at all?”

Jisung frowns. “No. He’d be more likely to talk to you anyway. Minho’s always found me annoying.”

“I’m gonna take off now,” Hyunjin says. He carries his bowl to the sink, then fills his water bottle and places it inside his duffel bag. He flashes a sarcastic peace sign. “Dance with Minho now, hah hah. Catch you later.”

The door bangs shut behind him, and Woojin turns to Jisung, who has dashed into the kitchen to rifle through the pantry for snacks. The younger boy exits with a packet of chips and banana milk.

“No class for you today, Ji?”

“Nah. But I have to go in later, to finish that shit for Seungmin.”

Woojin raises a brow. “Will Minho be there?”

Jisung shrugs. “Who knows?”

He walks past the table and drops onto the couch, pulling a blanket over him. “I’m just gonna binge some crap until then. Come join me.”

“Gladly.”

 

“I was thinking you could stay over tonight.”

The words are lowly spoken over their table, and Minho feels like the older man’s eyes are boring into him as he tries to think of a reply.

“Um- I- I’m just not ready.”

“We’ve been going out for a month now, Minho.”

A month and three days. The dates appear in Minho’s mind automatically. He hardly had anything else in his brain.

“And it’s not like _us_ is anything new…”

He closes his eyes for a second, exhales, then manages to look up into the man’s eyes for just a second. “I know, Taeju, I’m sorry I just have a lot on…”

He trails off, staring some spot just to the left of Taeju’s face.

“Minho.”

Fingers brush under his chin, and he’s forced to make eye contact once more.

“It’s fine. I understand. You have a lot on your plate right now, you’re working so hard and focusing on your assignments. I’m really proud.”

Minho blinks, swallowing the lump in his throat, but not trusting himself to speak coherently.

“I’ just glad you listened to me when I told you how much better you’d be able to work without all those distractions in your life.” Taeju’s rough fingers press slightly deeper, and Minho tries not to squirm under his touch. “You’re mature and driven. Those kids can’t keep up with you.”

He leans in to kiss Minho on the cheek, murmuring by his ear, “I’ll pick you up after class. We’ll go out for dinner.”

Without waiting for Minho’s reply, Taeju takes his bag and exits the café, leaving Minho alone with a full, cold cup of coffee. Minho checks his watch. 1:45, it reads- which meant fifteen minutes of Taeju’s hour-long break, but his office is a twenty minute drive away. Minho wonders if being late will have any repercussions for him. Probably not.

He sits at the table five minutes longer, mentally preparing for his next class. When Minho gets to his feet, something in his back pulls, and he bites heavily on his lip to keep from crying aloud. Again, thoughts of the massage waiting for him at the couple’s retreat come to mind.

But that keeps slipping further out of reach.

Minho straightens, hoping a small stretch will help. It doesn’t, but he doesn’t really care anymore, just opts to hang it from his left shoulder instead.

Maybe he can ask Taeju to take him to a masseuse.

_Going together should be okay, right?_

 

They’ve been in the cafeteria at their usual table for just short of an hour, the two of them steadily working through their work in a comfortable silence. Jeongin is beginning to get restless as he tends to do after periods of sitting still, and Chan picks up on it instantly.

“Do you want to take a break? We can get strawberry milk and sit outside. It’s not raining yet.”

Jeongin’s shoulders droop as he takes in the kind words, not wanting to disturb their vibe, or whatever it is they have. But, he thinks resolutely, _I can’t take the fucking elephant in the room any longer._

Inhaling as much gumption as air, Jeongin utters the words he’s been trying to keep inside him for far too long now.

“I like you, Chan,” a beat and then, “a lot.”

It isn’t a shock to Jeongin when the older boy barely blinks at the confession, figuring Chan must have realised at some point. He lets his confession hover in the silence, waiting for Chan to speak.

After some hesitation, Chan nods. “I know.”

Of course.

“I guess you’ve known for a while.”

“The amusement park.” Chan bites his lip, nervous. “I didn’t realise at first, why you were so upset. I was just thinking about Woojin. But later at home, I guess it really hit me.”

“Just your classic case of young boy and his unrequited love,” Jeongin jokes bitterly.

Chan’s mouth twists. “Not… not entirely unrequited,” he says carefully, and Jeongin knows his words are chosen to protect Jeongin’s heart as best he can. “There are times when I’ve felt I could… feel the same way… but….”

“But Woojin,” Jeongin finishes for him.

Chan nods.

“I can’t pretend it doesn’t hurt,” Jeongin says, a sad smile on his lips. “But it doesn’t make me happy to see you wanting Woojin and… feeling like you can’t go to him. I don’t know him well, but… I know he’s a good person. And I know he wants you back too.”

“You’re a wonderful person, Jeongin.”

Jeongin braces himself for the ‘but’, squeezing his eyes shut to keep any tears from falling.

“ _And_ -”

Jeongin cracks one eye open, finding Chan smiling at him fondly. He squints suspiciously.

“I’d like to keep hanging out with you, if that’s okay with you.”

“You what?” Jeongin sputters in disbelief.

Chan bursts into laughter. “Why wouldn’t I? We make a great team, we go on adventures nobody else want to go on. Why would I give that up?”

“You have a point,” Jeongin concedes, mock serious. “I am definitely cooler than your other friends.”

“You are.”

“And Woojin’s friends, too.”

“Also true.”

“You should call him,” Jeongin says suddenly.

Chan’s brows lift. “Now?”

“There’s no reason not to,” Jeongin shrugs. “I’ll move to another table.”

He picks up his bag and laptop, and with a thumbs up to the older boy, moves a few tables away, closer to the door. _So I can make a break for the bathroom to have a mental breakdown if I so please,_ he thinks morbidly. He shakes his head. _Don’t be a little bitch, Yang Jeongin,_ he chastises internally. _You’re happy for him… for both of them._

And he is, Jeongin realises with some clarity. He is happy for them. It does hurt, the knowledge that Chan doesn’t feel the same way as he does. It stings, and probably will for a little while longer. But in the midst of it all, Jeongin knows he feels better already. Just saying it aloud, putting himself out there- it’s lifted a weight off his shoulders. His heart isn’t broken just… a little dented. For now.

At the very least, he has his integrity, and he has a solid friendship with Chan. And really, that’s what he’s been looking for all this time.

Chan makes eye contact with him, phone to his ear and talking animatedly. He begins walking toward Jeongin, smiling brightly. “So dinner? Today?” And then, “you wanna go _now_?”

 _Go on_ , Jeongin mouths encouragingly, waving his hands as if to push Chan out the door. Chan looks at him, face etched with some mix of confusion and laughter, and Jeongin feels his heart beat faster in his chest.

“Okay, okay,” Chan says into the phone, “give me twenty minutes.”

He ends the call and tucks his phone into his pocket, looking up at Jeongin as if he can’t believe what’s happening. “We’re going to go out for dinner. I… I should probably put on something nice.”

“That might be a good idea,” Jeongin laughs. He pushes the older boy’s back, trying to get him to walk out of the cafeteria. “Hurry up!”

In the doorway, Chan pauses, turning back to Jeongin with a softness in his eyes. “Thanks, kid.”

Jeongin’s heart thuds again, and he prays his cheeks don’t redden. “Make sure to buy Woojin some flowers, okay?”

 

When Jisung enters the library to finish Seungmin’s worksheet, Minho is already inside, sitting alone in a desk close to where Seungmin is pacing about.

Jisung takes a seat beside him, and he realises this is the closest he’s been to Minho in weeks. The older boy doesn’t look up when he sits down, or acknowledge him at all as they answer their sheets from Seungmin, and Jisung doesn’t try to get his attention at all. He focuses on the questions, answering them as diligently as he can. This time, Minho doesn’t try to peek at his answers. Probably for the best, Jisung decides.

As Jisung comes to the final question, Minho begins packing his things into his backpack quickly. His phone beeps, loudly, and he snatches it quickly, turning it to silent. In his peripheral vision, Jisung doesn’t miss the way Minho’s hands shake.

Neither does Seungmin, who juts his chin at Jisung urgently while Minho is still bent over his backpack.

 _What_ , Jisung mouths.

Seungmin continues jerking his head oddly.

 _I don’t know what you’re saying_ , Jisung mouths again, brows knitted, wondering why it isn’t compulsory to know sign language.

“I’m done,” Minho says quietly. He hands his paper to Seungmin, then walks out.

Seungmin ducks down beside Jisung, lowering his voice so as not to get shouted at by the other students. “Fucking go after him,” he hisses, yanking Jisung out of his chair.

“Why?”

“Because if that boyfriend of his finds out about this trip you’ll be very single on a couple’s retreat and Minho will be walking around like a zombie for the foreseeable future.”

That does it. Not bothering to grab any of his things, Jisung scurries as quickly as he can out of the library, ignoring the librarian’s angry glare as he breaks into a run before he makes it outside. Up ahead is Minho, still in the lobby but close to the doors. He sprints faster.

“Minho!”

The blonde keeps walking, and Jisung prays he doesn’t have his earphones in.

“Minho, please! Wait!”

He turns, a hand to his ear, preparing to put his second airpod in. The same blank expression Minho has worn for the past few weeks is still there now, but at least he’s looking at Jisung now.

When Jisung reaches him, he braces one arm on his knees, holding his hand up for the older boy to wait while he gets his breath back. Minho says silent, but doesn’t move.

“The trip,” Jisung manages, debating internally whether skipping pool practice for two weeks has put him so out of whack or whether he’s just scared, “don’t tell him.”

Minho looks at something behind Jisung, and Jisung can’t tell if he’s listening or not, but hopes he is.

“Please. I’m not one to beg but… don’t tell Taeju about this. It’s… important for… for Seungmin.”

The possibility that Minho may reject him briefly crosses his mind, but after a beat Minho nods, mouth pressed in a thin line. The blonde turns to go, and Jisung all but lunges for him, curling his hand around Minho’s bicep.

“Say it,” Jisung insists. “Promise me.”

When Minho turns this time, he meet Jisung’s stare, and in the dull orange light of the foyer Jisung can see his brown eyes are glimmering with tears. He lets go of the older boy immediately, but draws back only a little.

“I won’t tell him.”

They stand in silence, Jisung still breathing heavily from his run, and Minho’s chest rising and falling quickly, easily visible under his tight white t-shirt. Jisung wonders if he has a jacket, then remembers he won’t be walking home anyway.

“I have to go.”

The electronic doors open for him, and Taeju’s large white car pulls to a stop in the mostly empty carpark, the man jumping out of his car when he sees Minho. He places a hand on the blonde’s lower back as he guides him into the car, and just over the wind Jisung catches the words, “I thought you were gonna make me come and get you!”

Footsteps sound behind him while the doors close, and Seungmin arrives by his side, clearing his throat gently. “I’m no expert but…”

His words hang in the air, neither of them wanting to voice their thoughts aloud.

“I know,” Jisung agrees tiredly, eyes fixed on the car lights disappearing down the street. “He said he won’t tell Taeju about it.”

“Good.”

“Yeah. I guess he can just say it’s for something else. Compulsory or whatever. Maybe a dance camp,” Jisung says absently. “I heard they have those.”

“They do.”

Seungmin watches the rain begin to fall outside, pensive. “As long as Taeju doesn’t catch wind of anything, you and Minho will be sharing a room together next week for five days. Make that count.”

Jisung nods, and some semblance of hope seeps into his chest. “I’ll speak to Hyunjin about it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi yuhhhh so probably only like two chapters left? i think? lemme know what u think ily xx


	9. i dare you to

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> minsung's free holiday finally begins, changlix are up to some nonsense, and some detective work leads the other boys to realise something sinister is at play

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi im back, sorry it took so long! uni is killing me hhh

“It’s going to be super fun,” Hyunjin cheers, taking Minho’s bigger bag. “I’ve been excited for dance camp for ages!”

Taeju frowns. “I still think it’s odd you didn’t mention this earlier to me, Minho.”

Minho stares at the ground. “It just skipped my mind, I guess.” He looks up at the older man. “I’ve just been so busy with assignments and all that…”

This doesn’t appear to convince Taeju any further.

“It’s going to be great, really!” Hyunjin slings an arm around his friend, and Minho wonders when Hyunjin became this good an actor. “It’s about time Minho got a well-deserved massage, isn’t it?”

“I suppose so.”

Hyunjin tugs at his hand again, squeezing a little insistently this time, but Minho finds himself rooted to the spot.

“If something goes wrong, I’ll call you,” Minho says quietly.

“Why would something go wrong?”

“N-no, it- I don’t mean-”

Hyunjin snaps his fingers. “We’re going to be late! See you in five days, Taeju!”

He starts running across the road to the bus, dragging Minho along with him. Seungmin stands by the door, a serious expression on his face.

“Everything okay?”

“Just fine.”

Hyunjin smiles thinly. “You should leave quickly.”

He pushes Minho onboard and follows after, taking a seat beside him near the front. Taeju, having watched them get on the bus, turns to go back to his car.

Minho looks around. “Where is Jisung?”

As if on cue, Jisung steps onto the bus, wearing an identical oversized hoodie to Hyunjin’s. His face appears drawn and his tan somewhat faded. _Like a wilted flower_ , Minho thinks, brows creased with worry. He watches the younger boy walk toward him, preparing to greet him.

Hyunjin slips to the floor, out of view, and Jisung sits in his place. He places his backpack on his lap, puts his headphones on, and closes his eyes as the bus rumbles to life.

Hyunjin raises an eyebrow at their friend’s behaviour. He shrugs. “See you in five days,” he waves, then half crawls off the bus, slipping into the crowd of students waving them off.

“Hi?”

Jisung cracks one eye open, nods, then shuts it again.

Minho swallows. _Odd_. He reaches into his bag for his own earphones, then remembers that he’d been banking on Jisung talking his ear off the entire trip and he hadn’t even packed them. _I’m going to throw myself out the window_ , Minho decides, folding his arms across his chest. He sends a quick prayer skyward, hoping that he can at least fall asleep to pass time.

As the bus door swings shut, Minho finds himself keenly aware of two things: how beautiful the sunset is this evening and Taeju’s sharp gaze on him from across the street.

 

“Hey!”

Woojin climbs into the passenger seat of Chan’s car and slams the door closed behind him, carefully placing his coffee in the cup-holder.

“They’re about to leave,” Chan says, watching the bus ahead of them. He can see Jisung through the window, red headphones bright against his hair.

“Minho made it on, then?”

“Yeah, Taeju brought him. He’s over there.” Chan points to the white car reversing just up the street. He leans over and kisses Woojin on the cheek.

Woojin smiles. “What was that for?”

Chan winks. “Just because.”

Four days have passed since their first dinner together in a long time, one that Woojin was thankful to Jeongin for bringing about, no matter the previous dynamics between them. They’d both cried at their table as they talked things out, and at some point Woojin half-expected the waitress to ask if they were okay, but once everything was out there was an undeniable weight lifted off their shoulders.

Chan’s admission of feeling overwhelmed and ‘stuck’ had led Woojin to confess that he’d known something wasn’t quite right with both their relationship and Chan himself.

“The most irresponsible thing I’ve ever done is ignoring your unhappiness because I didn’t want to jeopardise us,” Woojin had said through tears. “I’m sorry for being so selfish.”

“I was selfish too,” Chan had said ashamedly. “I’m sorry for ignoring real solutions to all this shit… and ignoring you, too.”

With some encouragement from both Woojin and Felix, Chan decided that he would begin seeing a therapist, and was feeling quite ready for his first upcoming appointment. He wanted to do this for himself, for Woojin and for all his friends.

“I keep missing Taeju,” Woojin complains, craning his neck after the white car as it zooms past, regardless of the fact that the windows are tinted anyway. “I’m the only one who hasn’t seen his face yet.”

“He’s pretty attractive,” Jeongin says eagerly, jumping up in the backseat.

“Fuck!” Woojin places a hand to his chest and glares at the younger boy in the mirror. “I forgot you were in the car.”

Chan and Jeongin burst into laughter.

“Don’t be grumpy,” Chan says, placing a comforting hand on Woojin’s thigh.

Woojin rests his hand on top, still looking at Jeongin. “Stop looking at older men, mister.”

Jeongin scowls. “I’ll eat some of your beef at dinner, hyung, just you wait.”

 

No gods answered Minho’s prayer for sleep, or death.

The ride from their university to the resort only took forty minutes in total, but to someone like Minho who rarely rides in cars or buses, he had spent the trip feeling cramped and bored. Jisung being abnormally silent the entire time had not helped his mindset in any way either, and now Minho had to begin his long-planned trip in a bad mood.

The students file off the bus quickly, most shouting eagerly as they grab their luggage and take their room numbers from Seungmin, who stands beside a man Minho assumes is his professor. _This must have taken so much effort_ , Minho thinks as he watches the younger boy overlooking a clipboard. He winces. _I should probably have been a bit more considerate towards him._

As if sensing Minho’s gaze, Seungmin makes his way over to him.

“Hey Minho, hey Jisung,” Seungmin smiles.

Minho startles. He’d forgotten Silent Jisung was even with him. “Hey.”

Seungmin hands him their room number. “I’ll see you at dinner!”

Jisung nods and begins walking away, dragging his bag along the ground.

“Jisung?”

Jisung turns.

“It’s this way.”

 

The fact that they had to share a bed on this trip had been long forgotten by both of them, and the sight of the sole queen-sized bed now feels vaguely threatening.

“I like to sleep on the right side,” Minho says, hoping to break the ice.

Jisung replies by way of setting his things down beside the left side of the bed, pulling the top blanket up and crawling underneath it.

Minho spends the next five minutes arranging his things carefully in the small drawers in the closet. He wonders whether to leave room for Jisung, but decides Jisung is the type to not actually unpack his things whilst on holiday.

When he finishes, he turns back to see Jisung staring at the ceiling. “I’m going to get a massage.”

Jisung doesn’t move. “Okay.”

A wave of anger shudders through Minho, but he clamps his mouth shut even as Jisung picks up his headphones, places them on his head and lies back on their bed.

He leaves their room and stalks outside in the direction of the building he’d seen the massage advertisements on their way in. Not even the reassuring smiles of the masseuses manage to calm Minho down, nor the oils or even the massage itself. As his sore muscles finally get kneaded, Minho finds himself only thinking of the boy back in their hotel room rather than the fact that he is finally receiving the massage he’s been after for months. He glares at the floor through the face hole of the bed.

“You’re so tense,” the lady tells him. “Try to relax a little.”

“I’m trying,” Minho grits through his teeth. “I really am.”

 

Felix is pleased to discover that Changbin is a terrible drinker.

The two had decided to stay in for the night, watching some soap opera on television and having a quiet evening. The introduction of alcohol hadn’t been part of Felix’s plan, but he hadn’t minded it. Seeing Changbin’s drunk persona now makes him thankful he didn’t say no.

Jisung enjoys teasing Felix relentlessly for his alcohol tolerance every time they drink together. Felix imagines his roommate would have a field day if he ever manages to see Changbin in his current state: giggling into Felix’s neck and cuddling his plushies too his chest.

He pulls out his phone and takes a quick selfie to document Adorable Changbin and their twin flushed faces. “Look how cute we look.”

Changbin doesn’t look. He takes a swig of soju then slams the glass down onto the coffee table, heedless of Felix’s wince, then fixes his eyes on the blonde boy intensely. “You should move in with me. Permanently.”

Felix laughs. “What about Jisung? He’s too much of a clown to live alone.”

“I don’t want to marry Jisung, though,” Changbin pouts. His eyelids flutter, and he clumsily reaches out to grab his half-finished bottle but fails to reach it and flops back onto the pillows behind him instead.

Felix’s eyes bug out. “Marry?”

“Mmmsahghjgakf,” Changbin mutters, then promptly passes out along the couch.

Felix paws at the air as he falls, shaking his boyfriend’s shoulders.

“Changbin! Wake up! What do you mean, _marry_?”

 

“Jisung.”

The room has been tense since Minho returned from his massage, the two of them sitting as far away from each other as possible: Jisung cross-legged against the headboard and Minho lying on his stomach with his upper body at the end of the bed.

They’d had a brief break for dinner, but even Seungmin had left after ten minutes, unable to stomach the awkward silence.  

“I get that we haven’t hung out lately but you don’t have to ignore me like this.”

Jisung stares at him in utter disbelief. “Are you serious? You don’t recall ignoring me almost entirely since that old man came into your life?”

Minho swallows. “Well-”

“You wouldn’t even be on this trip if it wasn’t for me, who are you kidding?”

“That’s not-”

“I wanted to break up with you before this holiday.” Jisung stands up, grabbing his towel off the end of the bed. “The only reason I didn’t is because I promised Seungmin I wouldn’t fuck up his project the way I fuck up pretty much everything else.”

The words feel like a knife to Minho’s chest, unexpected and cutting. He runs a hand through his hair, hoping Jisung won’t notice the shocked flush he can feel on his cheeks. “We’re not even dating.”

Jisung’s reply is swift. “And you never let me forget that.”

Minho stares at him, unable to speak.

He slings his towel around his shoulders and opens the door. “I’ll be in the pool.”

 

“Do you know why Minho chose Jisung to fake date, Woojin hyung?”

Hyunjin had joined the three of them in the car once the bus had left, and they’d chosen to go out for late barbeque together, inevitably talking about the drama at hand.

Woojin turns over the pork and beef carefully. “Minho has only dated one person to my knowledge, and he seems practically the opposite of Jisung from the little I know of the guy. When I asked Minho why he asked Jisung out he just said ‘because he’s pretty’. He didn’t know I knew Jisung so I guess he didn’t care for a real reason, just a chance for a free holiday.”

“Ages ago I heard Felix and Jisung discussing some of the rumours about Minho,” Chan says, swiping a side dish out of Jeongin’s grasp. He ignores the younger boy’s yelp and continues on. “One of them was that Minho was into older guys only. Jisung was seething.”

Hyunjin nods slowly. “I heard that too, before I was close with Minho. I even dismissed it as bullshit, but last night Taeju finally came over- to help Minho pack- and he said something about them being together when Minho was in high school.”

“Wait, he’s dating the guy he dated in high school?”

The three turn to him, shocked.

“You know him?”

Woojin shakes his head. “No, I never knew anything real about it. Minho never told me his name, never anything beyond the fact that the guy was ‘older’, and I was annoyed he wouldn’t give me details but also proud he confided in me at all. I only knew to keep things hush hush because Minho was gay. At the time I didn’t know any better about the implications of what ‘older’ meant.”

Chan bites his lip, worried. “For him to go back to someone after all this time must mean the guy had a pretty big impact on him.”

“It did. I didn’t think Minho had really been that affected by any of it, but I started to realise that while he was still popular and on the surface level the same, he’d really drawn into himself and he’s never changed from that.”

Woojin frowns, realising that his ignoring Minho’s past behaviour is very reminiscent of what went down with Chan. “I remember Minho telling me his boyfriend told him he was more mature than other people his own age, and he stopped bothering to make friends. That’s why he didn’t know that Chan and I knew Jisung when he told us they were dating. He’s never accepted our invitation for him to hang out with our group.”  

“He kept up the charade that he and Jisung were dating but now he seems to have just let it go since being with Taeju.” Chan chews on his lettuce thoughtfully. “I wonder why.”

“I’m not sure if it’s because he lost focus or perhaps he thinks Taeju could take him on a trip now so there’s no need to bother.”

“I’m confused.” Jeongin says. “Why didn’t he just tell you he wasn’t actually dating Jisung?”

Woojin shrugs. “I never figured it out. He was so intent on going on Seungmin’s free holiday, maybe he felt that the lie would be easier to contain if only he and Jisung knew the truth.”

 

When Minho arrives at the pool ten minutes after their little spat, Jisung is swimming freestyle laps up and down the pool. In the moonlight, his tanned skin looks smooth in the water, and his neon green board shorts seem more obnoxious.

Coaxing the gate open without a squeak, Minho wades into the water without a splash. He strokes into the centre of the pool, treading water until Jisung turns for his next lap. The brown-haired boy’s mouth opens in shock at the sight of him.

“You shouldn’t get in without warning me!” Jisung’s voice is raised, but it’s not quite a shout. “What if you panicked or something and I didn’t know?”

Minho blinks. _Of course, he probably still has fucking PTSD from the time I kind of almost sort of blamed him for my near-death experience_. He clears his throat. “I’ve been practicing since then.”

Jisung squints.

“Not that it was ever your fault in the first place.” Minho swims a bit closer. “You know that, right?”

“I guess.”

“And I have been practicing. A lot. I think I should be okay even if my knight in bright green board shorts isn’t there to save me.”

Jisung shoots him a little smile, but doesn’t say anything further.

They begin to tread water in silence, not quite circling each other but moving daringly enough that something feels dangerously predatory about it. Despite the cool night air and being submerged in water, Jisung feels like he’s burning up. He meets Minho’s eyes across the water, realising the close proximity between them now, and floats backwards to put some distance between them. He lets out a surprised “oof” when his back lightly hits the pool edge.

“I want to do something stupid,” Minho’s voice drops an octave. He swims slightly closer to Jisung, eyes trained on the wide-eyed, brown-haired boy before him.

Jisung eyes him. “You’re always doing stupid things.”

“Mm.” His wet blonde hair glints a dark gold now. Minho moves again, palms running back and forth through the water to pace right in front of Jisung. He lifts his hand and brushes Jisung’s waist to brace himself on the stone behind them. “So tell me not to do this.”

“Minho…”

Minho raises a brow challengingly, and Jisung’s eyes rake over his face, taking in Minho’s sparkly brown eyes and perfect nose and pretty lips, and suddenly he feels surer of this than anything else in his life.

“I dare you to.”

Minho closes the gap between them in seconds.

 

“I’ve been looking into Minho’s social media for any hints of who the guy is,” Jeongin says. “It’s hard though. He’s really private.”

“Minho wouldn’t put up any photos of him in a relationship. Too many homophobes.”

“True.” Jeongin continues to scroll anyway. “There’s not much on Minho’s Facebook account that’s for sure. I swear he hasn’t updated since- since high school! I just found photos of Minho back in high school. Woojin hyung you’re here too!”

“Show me.”

The boys coo as they look over fresh-faced Woojin and Minho, both sporting natural black hair so different to their current styles. Woojin’s hair is still curly in the photo, but neatly brushed, and his shirt is buttoned to the top with the tie knotted carefully. By contrast, Minho’s hair is swept off his forehead and the top three buttons of his shirt are undone. His tie is nowhere to be seen.

“Rebel Minho,” Hyunjin laughs.

Jeongin swipes to the next photo, this time Minho wears an almost secret smile, eyes downcast while the man beside him smiles widely into the lens, a look in his eyes that could only be interpreted as pride.

“Oh, Mr. Kim, he was our English teacher. He left the year we graduated actually- guys?” Woojin breaks off to find the three boys staring at him with identical horrified expressions. “Hello?”

Hyunjin bites his lip. “Woojin… we known that man as Taeju.”

 

Hot. That’s all Jisung feels. Burning, on fire, heated… his brain doesn’t know what else to call it. Minho’s hands are in his hair, on his waist, trailing down his chest; he feels electric in a way he never has before, not even when Minho’s lips were on his neck in the nightclub.

“Feels like years ago,” Jisung mutters between kisses. He feels light-headed.

Minho cups a hand against his cheek. “What does?”

“Nightclub.”

“Ah,” Minho replies, now focusing on nipping at the skin along Jisung’s neck. Something about Jisung’s inability to speak in complete sentences makes him feel powerful. He mouths over Jisung’s earlobe, and Jisung shudders. “You remembered me doing this?”

“Could never forget.”

Minho chuckles. “I know.”

Jisung pushes him away playfully, hitting the blonde’s shoulder. “Fuck off.”

“What if I don’t want to?”

“Hmm.” Jisung pretends to consider. “I guess we’ll have to figure something ou-”

He freezes, eyes trained on something behind Minho, nails digging in to Minho’s skin hard.

“Ji? Are-”

_No._

_No, no. no. Surely not._

“What do you think you’re doing, baby?”

Minho sucks his breath in with a hiss, heart thundering. He squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, then turns, slowly, desperately trying to control his breathing.

 

 “Taeju.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ha haha ... ha ... my fingers slipped


	10. so, so pretty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> minho and jisung face off against the darkness of minho's past while the others do their best to help

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yo yo yoooo 
> 
> im back hhhh finished my exams so here is the last chapter :0 
> 
> finally lmao n e ways i hope u enjoy mwahs

“Out of the pool, Minho.”

Minho freezes, breath quickening, staring at Taeju’s chest area, unable to meet the older man’s eyes.

“I don’t have all day.”

Jisung’s hands tighten on his shoulders. “Do not get out,” he whispers. “He’s still on the other side of the pool-”

“SHUT UP!”

Jisung gasps at Taeju’s scream, then slips his hand down into the water, searching for Minho’s. He finds it and threads their fingers together, squeezing his hand in what he hopes to be a reassuring manner. “You shouldn’t be here, Taeju. There’s staff and teachers here, someone is going to hear you. You should go before you get into trouble.”

Taeju flashes a grin, and the glint of the moonlight on his white teeth sends a shiver down Jisung’s spine. “Oh I don’t think that will be a problem. Minho’s always been good at evading the teachers he doesn’t like and… getting close with the ones he does.”

Minho stiffens.

“Go on, Minho,” Taeju taunts, leaning against the pool fence. “Tell him what a good teacher’s pet you were.”

Jisung knits his brows. “Min, what’s he talking about?”

“Well, back when Minho was still high school-”

“NO!” Minho yells. “Not Jisung, don’t-”

“Min, it’s okay-”

“NO, IT ISN’T”!

He turns around, eyes flashing in fear. “Things happened and they’re not- they’re not good- not _HIM_ ,” Minho becomes more hysterical with every word spoken, spinning from Jisung to face Taeju again, finding the man now rifling through his bag. “I’ll come with you, just leave Jisung out of this, _please_ , please-”

“NO!”

Jisung and Taeju shout the word at the same time, Jisung trying to grab Minho’s shoulders again while Taeju flings the bag away. The boys’ eyes zero in on the silver, shining object now resting in his hand.

“You’ve messed me around long enough. Now we’re doing things my way.”

 

“I can’t get hold of either of them,” Woojin says, phone pressed to his ear on the ninth ring. “Why aren’t they picking up?”

Chan frowns. “Maybe there’s no service. It’s pretty far out.”

“I can’t get hold of Felix or Changbin either,” Hyunjin calls from the backseat. “I think they said they were drinking tonight, so they might be out at this point.”

“Fuck,” Woojin hisses.

Chan reaches over to place his palm on Woojin’s thigh. “There’s enough of us here,” he says quietly. “Besides, they might be fine. We might be freaking out over nothing.”

“I’m texting Seungmin too,” Jeongin says. “It’s late and he sleeps early, but if I keep texting it might annoy him into waking up.”

Woojin gives a half-choked laugh. “I hope.” His breath hitches and he tries to calm down. “I think we should call the police. If nothing’s happening, I can take responsibility-”

“I saw Taeju’s eyes this morning.” Hyunjin reaches over the seat to squeeze Woojin’s shoulder. “There’s something there… not right. We know he’s not a good person. If you think we should call the police, go ahead.”

“I’m taking as many shortcuts as I can,” Chan says, focused on the road. “If the police need to come, we might make it there first. We don’t want to deal with something alone.”

Woojin swallows. “I’m gonna call.”

 

_Buzz. Buzz. Buzz._

Seungmin stirs under his single sheet. It’s too hot for anything really, but he can’t sleep without something covering him. Even if he doesn’t have any roommate to hide from, like he normally does. _Old habits die hard, I guess_ , he thinks sleepily, flipping onto his stomach.

_Buzz, buzz. Buzz, buzz._

_Buzz-_

“For fuck’s sake!”

He isn’t even meant to have service in this stupid resort, but the cleaner had informed him that “you’re in the end cabin that usually gets service!” And so despite being on holiday, Seungmin still is not safe from Jeongin’s late night harassment.

He snatches his phone, the screen predictably lighting up with the caller ID “ _twerp roomie_ ”. He accepts the call with a sigh. “Jeongin, I am on HOLIDAY-”

_“Have you seen Minho and Jisung?”_

Seungmin catches onto the panic in Jeongin’s tone and bounces straight up. “Why? What’s going on?”

 _“Maybe nothing,”_ Hyunjin’s voice floats through, “ _but neither of them are responding to messages_ -”

“They wouldn’t have service here, I’m in, like, the only cabin that does.”

“ _Thank god you do_ ,” Jeongin says. “ _Seungmin, Taeju is Minho’s high school teacher- we think he might go to Minho.”_

“WHAT?” Seungmin leaps out of bed, setting his phone to speaker and hastily pulling his shoes on. “What the hell is going on?”

“ _It’s all my fault_ ,” Woojin cries hysterically in the background. “ _If I’d known_ -”

“ _It’s not your fault_!” Chan’s voice is fainter, and Seungmin realises they’re in a car.

“Are you on your way here? Do you know he’s here?”

 _“We are,”_ Jeongin confirms. _“We called the police too… just in case.”_

Seungmin swipes his phone off the bed and leaves the cabin, simultaneously grateful that this isn’t a school camp and he doesn’t have anyone to answer to, while realising this puts him more in harm’s way. “I’m going to their cabin,” he whispers, jogging down the path to the other cabins.

“ _Okay_.”

He arrives at their cabin, and pushes the door open. Unlocked. He flicks the light on, and the double bed is empty, sheets only disturbed on one side. On the left beside table is a phone, lit up with notifications.

“Minho’s,” Seungmin says aloud. The texts are from Woojin mostly, and Hyunjin, Jeongin and Chan. One from his mother, wishing him goodnight. He keeps scrolling. “Shit.”

_“What is it?”_

“They’re not in their room,” Seungmin whispers, closing the door as quietly as he can behind him.

_“Why are you whispering now?”_

“Because I don’t know where they are,” Seungmin says urgently, “and Taeju texted close to two hours ago that he was coming to get Minho.”

 

“You’re a lying, cheating slut, Lee Minho. Jisung deserves to know that, surely, if he’s going to help you cheat?”

Taeju kicks back off the fence and walks lazily toward the pool, brandishing the knife in his grasp.

“Maybe you wanna spare him the truth, huh? Come with me. We can leave now and I won’t hurt him.”

 _But I will hurt you_ , is what Taeju omits from the promise, and Jisung latches onto it. “Minho isn’t going anywhere.”

Minho speaks as if Jisung didn’t. “You won’t hurt him at all?”

Taeju’s lip curls into a sly grin. “Pinky swear.”

“No, Minho, that’s not how this works and you know it,” Jisung hisses by Minho’s ear.

“You’ll be safe.”

“The likelihood of him being able to fatally injure us with a knife isn’t high as long as we _fight_ , Min,” Jisung whispers as silently as possible, eyes trained on Taeju’s. “Don’t go with him, he’ll kill you.”

“You seem to like secrets, Han Jisung.”

“Only good ones.”

Taeju barks out a laugh. “Oh I have a good one. I’ll share it with you, because secrets aren’t fun if you don’t have anyone to tell them to.”

Minho shakes his head. “ _Stop_ _it_.”

“ _Don’t_ think you can tell me what to do!” Taeju snarls, baring his teeth like a wolf. He relaxes ever so slightly as Minho lowers his eyes once more. “I’m going to talk _how_ I want to, _when_ I want to and you will shut the fuck up.”

Jisung bites his tongue, torn between defending Minho and rational thought telling him to keep his cool.

“I’ve known Minho for a very long time.” Taeju sits down at the edge of the pool, directly opposite to the two boys. He places his legs in the water, not bothering to take his shoes off or roll his pants up. “Since he was in high school, actually.”

He waits for Jisung to respond.

“That’s a long time,” Jisung manages, horribly aware of the way Minho’s entire body begins to shudder minutely against him.

“It is. You see, we met when I came to his school, when Minho was in his second last year. I knew Minho wasn’t like the other kids straight away. He’s not just a pretty boy, is he? There’s a unique aura about him. Sets him apart. Makes him special.”

_When he came to school…_

“You weren’t a student.”

Minho lets out a harsh cry and Taeju howls, some kind of frightening laughter that Jisung has never heard in his life.

“I was his English teacher. You’re terrible at English, aren’t you? Not your… forte. But Minho… Minho was promising. With extra _private tutoring_ , he topped the class.”

The word choice is not lost on Jisung, and he feels bile rising in his throat. He forces it down just as Minho spins around and throws himself at the poolside, hauling himself out in a panic.

“NO!”

Taeju dives into the pool, and Jisung yells, leaping up beside Minho, but the pool isn’t very wide, and Taeju swipes out against Jisung’s ankle with the blunt end of the knife.

“AH-”

Minho turns just in time to see Jisung fall backwards, the force of Taeju’s hit causing him to slip on the wet ledge and sending him flying backwards. Jisung lands with a loud smack on the pavement, unmoving.

“ _What did you do_ ,” Minho screams, tears streaming down his face. He rushes to Jisung’s side, only for Taeju to leap out of the water and drag Minho in.

“You ungrateful _WHORE_ ,” Taeju yells, slamming Minho up against the ledge, “I’ve done _everything_ for you! You don’t just get to throw me away!”

“Let me GO! You’re hurting me!”

“Nothing else is working,” Taeju hisses. “I’ve given you chance after chance, I came back for you- I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you in line!”

“I didn’t want you to come back to me! I never messaged you after I graduated, I never told you where I was. That was me _leaving_ you!”

Taeju slaps him, hard, and Minho’s hand flies to his cheek, reeling in shock. “ _Nobody_ ,” Taeju leans in close, eyes glowing with hellfire. “ _Nobody_ leaves me. Especially not _you_.”

“You’ll never see me after this,” Minho spits. “I’m leaving you forever-”

Wrapping a hand round Minho’s neck, Taeju wrenches him off the pool wall and slams him against his chest. “Oh. No, baby. You won’t be doing anything of the sort.”

He shoves Minho’s head underwater, holding him fast as Minho begins to kick and scratch violently against him, bubbles rising upwards. Taeju yanks him above the surface, revelling in the sheer terror in the young boy’s eyes. “You’re not,” he dunks Minho once and pulls him back up, “going _anywhere_.”

“MINHO!”

The two both turn at the sound- Seungmin’s voice- and the brown haired boy appears at the pool gate.

“Seungmin,” Minho gasps, coughing up water, “please, _help_!”

“It’s locked!” Seungmin’s yells seem very far away to Minho now. “Get something to cut this!”

Minho launches himself at Taeju, weakened but driven by fear and adrenaline. They grapple with each other, Taeju’s larger frame at an unexpected match with Minho’s light but fit, determined self. Suddenly Minho’s punch misses falls short and the older man grabs his arm and forces him under the water again, twisting Minho’s arm painfully backwards. Feeling himself losing air, Minho opens his eyes, looking for anything to help him.

In Taeju’s waistband, his knife winks at Minho in the dark water.

He grabs it with his free arm and kicks into Taeju’s stomach with all the power he has left, shooting to the surface. He gasps for air as he breaks the surface, ears deafened by overwhelmingly loud shouts and sirens, then is immediately pushed down again by Taeju, who notices the weapon in his hands.

“You won’t hurt me,” Taeju pants, eyes wild, “I’m your everything.”

“You were,” Minho replies, fighting to stay above water. “Not anymore.”

He plunges the knife into Taeju, not drawing back until the hilt can’t go any further.

“Never again.”

 

 

Jisung sits in the back of an ambulance, a nurse checking him over for further injuries accompanying concussion while a police officer talks to him. Felix and Changbin stand to his right, Changbin keeping a firm arm around Felix, who keeps looking at Jisung as if he might burst into tears at any moment. Seungmin stands a few metres away, talking to one of the professors from their university and another two officers.

Minho watches him for a moment, then turns back to the police officer interviewing him and Woojin, Chan and Jeongin who sit in some fold out chairs, and Hyunjin, who sits beside him, their legs dangling off the back of an ambulance. The nurse is pleased to inform Minho that his only injuries are a few minor scratches and some bruising, as well as possible psychological trauma from Taeju’s attempt to drown him.

“I’d strongly advise some form of counselling after this experience,” the nurse says.

“I consider myself quite practiced at drowning now,” Minho says wryly.

“What do you mean?” The nurse asks in astonishment.

“Nothing,” Hyunjin hastily intervenes, “he’s joking.”

“Well, we all cope in different ways,” the nurse says, still eyeing him. “Nevertheless, please consider counselling. Not just for the near-drowning, but all of it.”

She waits for an affirmation from Minho, who merely grunts in reply. Seeming satisfied, she turns to the officer waiting. “You can keep on now.”

“Thank you,” the officer nods. She smiles at Minho sympathetically. “I’m actually pretty much done. But Minho, you do know that you just missed hitting anything vital with your strike?”

“I couldn’t kill him.”

“Yes, you could have,” she says. “It was self-defence. You’re perfectly within your rights to do so.”

Minho shakes his head. “It isn’t that. I know I could have. But I purposefully stabbed him where I did, because I didn’t need to inflict a fatal wound. I heard the shouts surrounding me and just did enough to get free so I didn’t drown.”

The officer nods, while the boys look confused.

“But he was going to kill you,” Jeongin says.

“I know.” Minho stands up and pulls his blanket tighter round his shoulders. “But I’m not a monster. And now he knows I’ll never be like him, no matter what.”

Taeju, wrangled into handcuffs, stares unflinchingly at Minho through the window as the police car carrying him passes them, heading for the main road. Minho makes eye contact for only a second: long enough to show Taeju that he survived, and he’s safe. And short enough to be the one to look away first. To leave him.

He turns away and looks past the police cars and ambulances parked haphazardly on the grass and spies Chan’s and Changbin’s cars behind them. “If Jisung is okay, I would really like to go home.”

 

 

They elect to all stay at Minho and Hyunjin’s apartment for the night, none of them feeling like they want to be apart at this time. Changbin arrives first, with Chan’s car being the designated food-pickup. While they wait for the others to arrive, Changbin and Felix settle onto the couch in the living room while Jisung wordlessly follows Minho to his bedroom.

Jisung closes the door behind him, waiting for Minho to speak.

Instead, Minho spins round and hurls himself into Jisung’s arms, sobbing silently. In turn, Jisung lets himself cry too, tears streaming down his face as Minho nuzzles into the space between his neck and shoulder.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Jisung mumbles into his blonde, chlorine-scented hair. He vaguely realises they probably both reek of chlorine and should have a shower at some point. “We’re okay. You’re okay-”

“It’s not okay,” Minho mumbles against Jisung’s hoodie. “You could have died- if someone hadn’t got to you in time who knows what could have happened-”

“But someone _did_ get to me. And you saved yourself.”

Minho raises his head, meeting Jisung’s eyes with some mix of fear and love, and Jisung feels he might burn under the intensity of it. He backs up against his bed and falls onto it, pulling Jisung onto his lap and hugging him with all his might.

“Careful,” Jisung says, giggling softly. “Don’t break me.”

“Hyunjin keeps telling me I’ll do that to H- T- to the- to the hamster,” Minho finally gets out, trying to ignore Jisung’s curious gaze. He perks up at the sound of the front door opening and more voices filling the apartment. “They’re back.” He holds out his hand to Jisung. “Let’s go.”

 

 

Woojin and Chan pass around bowls of rice and ramen to the group, everyone seated along the couches or on the floor around the living room table.

“You guys could really improve this place with some bean bags,” Felix says. “Then everyone could sit on something.”

“Why are you complaining?” Woojin questions. “ _You’re_ sitting comfortably on the couch, young man.”

Felix flushes, snuggling closer to Changbin. “It’s a suggestion. Jisung and I have cool ones.”

“Get on our level,” Jisung agrees, digging into his ramen.

Woojin rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “If you say so.”

After a few moments of eating quietly, Jeongin speaks up.

“Minho, why didn’t you just tell this group you weren’t really dating Jisung?”

Minho snaps up in surprise, and beside him, Jisung’s eyes go wide but he continues to shove food in his cheeks.

“I don’t mean to be annoying,” Jeongin says sheepishly. “We just didn’t get it. Was it really all for the free holiday?”

Minho swallows his mouthful and takes a deep breath, then exhales slowly. “Well, when I saw Jisung on the spot, yes. I needed a partner for the holiday and Jisung was there and,” he says, evading Jisung’s eye, “he is very might type. My _real_ type,” he says for emphasis, stressing that Taeju was anything but that. “But I’m not used to dating, aside from _him_. I liked Jisung instantly and didn’t know how to deal with it. It was confusing. And when I’m confused I can be… difficult.”

“Tell me about it,” Hyunjin mutters. Seungmin snorts next to him.

Minho glares.

“All part of the charm,” Hyunjin quickly adds, sending everyone into a fit of laughter.

“When Taeju came back, it was so sudden. I got wrapped up in a fantasy as a kid and I was… terribly naïve… I didn’t know what I was doing. And I thought everything was over. I hadn’t seen him in such a long time. Then he came back and…”

He trails off, and Jisung takes his hand, threading their fingers together.

“It was like my mind clouded over and I was like a puppet. I just… did whatever he wanted. Again. But it was different this time because back then I really thought I- well I thought I loved him. In the midst of this I just tried to distance myself from all of you- especially Jisung- because I hoped you’d grow to resent me and not come near him.” He looks at Woojin. “I tried to do the same to you at the end of high school too. But you didn’t leave me no matter how shit I was to you. That means the world to me.”

Woojin’s eyes well up with tears. “I could never leave you. You’re my oldest friend.”

“And you’re mine.”

After a moment, Minho clears his throat. “But mostly…”

The boys all look at him expectantly.

“Mostly I didn’t want to say I was dating Jisung because I felt like if I didn’t do anything to tempt fate… maybe we’d really be together after the holiday. That’s all I really wanted.”

Jisung looks up at him. “You got me.”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Changbin says from the couch. “You’re all sappy.”

“No, it’s cute!” Chan protests.

Felix hits Changbin’s bicep. “What are you saying? You told me you want to marry me last night?”

Jeongin gasps. “You did not!”

Changbin blushes. “I was drunk.”

“Are you saying you didn’t mean it?”

“No, no,” Changbin tries to hug Felix, who pretends to wriggle away from him, giggling. “Of course I meant it!”

Seungmin claps and sits up straight, almost knocking Hyunjin’s head off his shoulder. Hyunjin pouts, but Seungmin doesn’t even notice and carefully places his bowl on the floor beside him. “Minho, Jisung, I meant to sort something out with you two.”

The two in question glance over in surprise.

“That quiz you did, where neither of you got the same answers,” Seungmin begins.

“Not that,” Minho groans. “I was so shitty that day.”

Jisung purses his lips. “You were.”

“Hey!”

“Not the time, guys,” Hyunjin interjects, and Seungmin shoots him a little smile before continuing.

“The first question, the one asking what the other person was wearing when you first met… the answers are _always_ different,” Seungmin announces, smirking at Minho’s shocked expression. “The test is based entirely on perspective, and those different answers reflect the reality of relationships. I’m studying how different personalities work together and the ways they can become similar or bounce off each other after forming a relationship.”

“They become equally clowns,” Jeongin says.

Woojin snorts.

“I couldn’t remember what you were wearing because my ADHD causes me to hyper fixate on things which makes me miss other details,” Jisung tells Minho earnestly. “It was so long ago and it wasn’t important to me. I just know I couldn’t keep my eyes off your face.”

“Rightfully so,” Minho says, but an apple red dusts his cheeks.

Felix shakes his head. “That’s the real reason Jisung said yes to your dumb ass, Minho. He would’ve done anything you asked, I guarantee it.”

“Yep.” Jisung looks Minho right in the eye. “Because he’s pretty,” he grins. “So, so pretty.”

“I’m not pretty, I’m handsome,” Minho pouts.

“Nope.”

“I feel like now is a good time to introduce Minho’s hamster,” Hyunjin calls from behind them, exiting Minho’s bedroom with the orange ball in his hands.

“Taro!” Jisung claps his hands happily, causing the others to laugh again, save Minho, who glares daggers at his roommate yet again.

“Don’t you dare.”

Hyunjin ignores him and steps in front of Jisung, squatting next to him. He passes the hamster to Jisung, and everyone coos, secretly at the way Jisung’s eyes light up when he takes the similar-looking creature into his hands.

“Jisung,” Hyunjin grins, “this is Hantaro. Minho named him.”

“Hantaro?” Jisung blinks. “Isn’t it hamt- oh. _Oh_.”

A smirk crosses Jisung’s face, and the room dissolves into laughter as Minho tries to look anywhere but him. He shifts onto his knees and with his spare hand cups Minho’s cheek and pulls him close, still cradling Hantaro in his other hand. “You love me that much, huh?”

Minho rolls his eyes. “You’re so desperate.”

“Shut up,” Jisung seals his lips against Minho’s amidst the shouts of the other boys, and when Minho pulls him closer he knows there’s nothing in the world they can’t handle.

 

And they don’t squash Hantaro.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> note: no hamsters were harmed during these events 
> 
>  
> 
> AAAAAAAA so this story has finally come to an end :'))) it's been kind of a journey for me, because I've only finished one chaptered fic before so far (another skz one tf) but this one was way longer and has thus taken a lot longer to get out.  
> It took a darker turn towards the end which i guess a lot of people weren't expecting, but i really tried hard to write about a sensitive topic and be clear in emphasising that the victim in that situation is never to blame and predators are always bad! protect your minor friends! 
> 
> this is also not the happiest thing but i wasn't expecting that by the time i completed this woojin would no longer be performing with skz, and this has been so hard for stays. i wish wooj all the best and will continue to include him any skz fics i write because he belongs too much <3 
> 
> anyways as always thank u all so so so much for reading because your comments have kept me going and it makes it really fun as a writer to engage with ur thoughts (i wanna be an author so it all means a lot). if u liked my writing here i have another skz fic, nct shit and a long-term idol producer fic for anyone who likes cpop jhjkh 
> 
> thank u love u all <3333

**Author's Note:**

> any comments and kudos always appreciated!
> 
> i'll try to be as consistent with updates as i can :)))


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